Starstruck
by Seven Scribbles
Summary: Lily Evans is looking forward to summer - until she finds the Marauders, England's top-selling band, hiding in her barn. Now, she has to deal with rockstar egos, an unwanted admirer, and the dark force that sent them into hiding in the first place.
1. Catch a Falling Star

**Disclaimer:** Hi, I'm J.K. Rowling! -wakes up from dream- Oh, wait. We're just a couple of losers who spend our lives fantasizing and writing about characters who DON'T EXIST. So no, we don't own Harry Potter, and while we're on that topic, we don't own the movie Starstruck either (although we did steal its title. MUAHAHAHA).

* * *

**Chapter One**

Catch a Falling Star

* * *

"Lily! Get your _stupid_ cat out of my room!"

At the sound of the enraged shriek, Lily glanced up from the suitcase she was packing and sighed in exasperation. Under any normal circumstances, she would have ignored her sister's whining in a sadistic bid to prolong her suffering - this time, however, the image of her poor cat trapped in Petunia's hot pink chamber of death was too awful to ignore.

She let the pair of jeans that she had been holding fall into a heap on her bed and trudged down the hallway in annoyance. The sight that awaited her when she reached Petunia's room would have been comical, had it not been so disturbing:

Her sister, flustered and furious, was shaking a woollen blanket violently while a ball of black fur clung on for dear life, hissing and spitting.

Lily's jaw dropped in horror. "What are you _doing?_" she yelled, storming into the room and trying not to wince at the onslaught of pink. She snatched the cat away from her sister and held him to her chest, where he began to purr contentedly.

Petunia took a deep, calming breath as she folded the blanket and placed it neatly back on her bed. "That _freak _cat was getting fur on everything," she said through gritted teeth. "I had to get it off somehow."

Lily shot her a glare and turned around, retreating back down the hallway with the cat cradled in her arms. "Aww, poor Harry," she cooed, scratching his chin. "Was Petunia being a meanie?"

"It's not like he can answer you!" Petunia shouted condescendingly at her back.

Lily ignored her sister. She smirked and put her ear up close to Harry's whiskery face. "What's that?" she said loudly. "You think she's a know-it-all snob with horrible decorating skills?"

"Ha ha," Petunia deadpanned at full volume. "You're so funny, Lily. Really, I'm in stitches. Now go away!"

Lily made a face at her sister's stupidity. "In case you hadn't noticed, I _am _going away!"

Petunia said nothing in response, but Lily could just imagine her pulling a face at nobody in particular as she mimicked Lily under her breath. Somewhat satisfied at having gotten in the last word, Lily kicked the door shut behind her and let Harry jump down into the disarray on her floor; he found a discarded sweater in the corner and curled up on it, completely at home and probably resting his eyes after all that retina-burning pink. Lily couldn't blame him.

Arguments like the one poor Harry had just witnessed weren't uncommon in the Evans household. In fact, if a week passed without a shouting match between Lily and Petunia, it was an indication that something was seriously wrong. The neighbours would probably have reason to call the police.

Lily and Petunia had never been terribly close. Growing up, it had become evident that the girls were about as different as was humanly possible; in fact, Lily still found it hard to believe that they shared the same DNA. Petunia, in all her blonde-haired, manicured glory, was a perfectionist in all aspects of life. She ate the right things, wore the right clothes, networked with all the right people - hell, she even made sure to blow her nose with just the right tissues. Lily, meanwhile, couldn't care less about half the things Petunia devoted her time to. This was reflected in her comparative shortness of friends, her curvier figure, and - the thing that annoyed Petunia most - her chewed, often dirt-encrusted fingernails. But with her bright red hair and endless source of energy, she had a fierce determination and a passion for living that most girls her age lacked.

All things considered, it was no wonder they had so much trouble seeing eye to eye.

Lily was distracted from her packing once more when her stomach growled with the intensity of a small earthquake, causing Harry to lift his head in alarm. It was so loud, in fact, that Lily wouldn't have been surprised if Petunia had heard it all the way from her bedroom.

Fighting with Petunia always made her hungry, she realized, as she deserted her suitcase yet again and ventured downstairs to find sustenance. She took the stairs two at a time (more out of habit than anything) and made a beeline for the kitchen, where she found her mother checking the cupboards and working on a grocery list. No doubt she was thinking about further healthy supplements she could introduce into the household - although, at this point, there was little left to supplement. Teresa Evans was a health fanatic, to say the least, and (with Petunia's wholehearted support) had introduced her family to a strict nutritious eating regime some years ago. For Petunia, it had been a dream come true - for Lily, it had been a sad goodbye to steaks and a reluctant hello to tofu burgers. Not the most agreeable of lifestyle changes, but still, she'd learned to cope. And as she navigated the kitchen and found all the fixings for a peanut butter and banana sandwich, she couldn't say she minded all that much.

"Almost packed?" Teresa asked her daughter. She'd just closed the last cupboard and was adding a few final touches to her list.

"Kind of," said Lily, licking off the knife. "Petunia's been a bit distracting, though."

Her mother sighed. "I wish you girls would try a little harder to get along."

Lily, who had this conversation with her mother at least once a week, rolled her eyes. "_Mom_," she groaned as she shoved the peanut butter back into the pantry. "You _know_ that's never going to happen."

Choosing to ignore this response, Teresa slipped the completed list into her purse and gave her daughter an admonishing stare. "Just make sure your suitcase is ready to go," she told her pointedly. "I want us to get an early getaway on Monday – traffic can be terrible at this time of year."

Every year, the Evans family took a trip to their lake house to celebrate the start of summer. Every year, Teresa Evans swore up and down that they would be making an early getaway. Every year, they were lucky if they managed to leave the house by noon.

"Mmphkay," Lily replied through a mouthful of peanut butter. She set her sandwich on a plate and took it into the sitting room, where she flopped down on the sofa and used the remote to turn on the TV. As usual, it was blaring some boring news channel with a reporter trying to make everything sound more dramatic than it really was. This time, however, the subject matter piqued her interest - sort of. Within in the first few headlines, she caught the words "Valentino DeMort" and "public humiliation", four simple words that combined to make her heart leap. _Serves him right_, she thought viciously, but then a face appeared on the screen that promptly killed her moment of joy.

Actually, four faces. All of them were infuriating, but only one had the power to make Lily's blood boil.

"_You might know The Marauders for their best-selling albums, their devilish good looks, or simply their irresistible charisma and charm," _said the reporter as the TV flashed between scenes of the four boys signing t-shirts, smiling for cameras, and doing all that other stuff that was rock star protocol. "_But one thing's for sure - if you don't know The Marauders, you've surely been living under a rock_."

"Somebody needs to hit your head with a rock," Lily muttered darkly. Unintentionally, her grip on her sandwich tightened until peanut butter came oozing out of the edges.

She hadn't even noticed her mother enter the room until she heard her voice from by the doorway. "Isn't that the boy Petunia likes?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Likes?" She aimed a cynical look at her mother. "_Worships, _mom. Acts like he's a bloody god or something."

But Teresa wasn't listening. "Language, sweetie," she cautioned distractedly as she slipped out the door. Then, much to Lily's horror, she called up the stairs, "Petunia! That boy you like is on TV!"

Lily was horrified. "No! Don't call her down! She'll-"

"OUT OF MY WAY!"

Before Lily even had time to react, Petunia had bounded down the stairs and bolted straight through the kitchen, completely ignoring everything and everyone in her wake as she gravitated like a magnet toward her "beloved". They were currently showing clips of one of the Marauders' recent gigs; two of the boys were strumming away on their instruments, running all over the stage, looking like a couple of idiots on crack. A third was abusing a drum set further downstage, while the final member swayed girlishly and shook his tambourine like it was some sort of fine art.

Petunia squealed when the camera zoomed in on the lead singer and guitarist. "James!" she cried out. She rushed forward, dove over the sofa - knocking the sandwich out of Lily's hands in the process - and plonked herself down inches from the screen. She reached up with longing fingers to touch the image of his face, sighing with adoration. "James Potter... Someday, you're going to realise that we're meant to be together."

"Good," growled Lily, who was trying to control her anger as she peeled the remnants of her afternoon snack off her now-stained t-shirt. "Then you can marry him, take all his money, and BUY ME A NEW SANDWICH!"

Petunia turned around with a very serious expression on her face. For a moment, Lily had the strangest feeling she might be about to apologise - but instead, all she did was further prove her state of delusion. "You may joke about it, Lily," she said, somehow managing to keep a straight face, "but you won't be laughing when we actually _do_ get married."

"Actually," said Lily, "I will. I think it'll be hilarious when you handcuff him to the altar and hold him at gunpoint while he reads out the vows you wrote for him."

"Shh!" Petunia ignored her and turned her focus back to the TV, where, much, to her dismay, the scene had changed. Instead of the Marauders, there was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his forties with a mean expression and hair that fell to his shoulders. He wore a leather jacket despite the scorching summer weather. In this particular clip, he didn't appear to be too pleased about being caught on camera. He looked livid, absolutely outraged - like one of his malicious, money-grabbing plans had failed and, for once in his life, things hadn't gone exactly as he wanted them to.

Lily regarded his deep frown with a strange sense of satisfaction. If there was one person she loathed more than The Marauders and their pathetic music, it was Valentino DeMort. Indisputably one of the world's most powerful business tycoons, the Russian multimillionaire was both the brains and the brawn behind one of the most rapidly growing superstore chains that the world had ever seen. Val-Mart, his self-titled megastore, had rapidly grown into a destructive empire of low prices and equally low employee salaries that was hell-bent on crushing both smaller businesses and endangered woodlands to the ground in its quest for world domination.

Okay, so perhaps it wasn't all quite so dramatic. In Lily's mind, however, Valentino "The Devil" DeMort was practically on the verge of spontaneously combusting and strolling around with a pitchfork in his hand.

"_Just hours ago, Valentino DeMort celebrated the opening of the newest Val-Mart superstore in London – but a distinct flaw in the ceremony did not go unnoticed by the eager crowd."_

Lily focused her attention on the television again, which was currently displaying a large and rather angry throng of people gathered in front of a colossal building.

"_It's no secret that DeMort is one of the least popular public figures in our nation – something he was maybe hoping to change when he announced that The Marauders would be playing at the opening ceremony of his London megastore," _the reporter declared, and Lily felt a surge of disgust flow through her. It was just like them to promote such a horrible cause._ "The heavily publicized concert was the main draw for the majority of guests today, but unfortunately for them, they never got to see their idols. In a surprising turn of events, The Marauders failed to make an appearance at the ceremony, leaving hundreds of devastated fans in their wake. Sources claim that DeMort was angry at the betrayal, but whether or not this was some sort of protest remains to be determined. It would seem that the Marauders have disappeared off the public radar for the time being. When contacted, none of their agents or other officials could were able to disclose the exact whereabouts of these four talented musicians. The verdict is unclear at this stage, but from the looks of things, we have a band on the run_."

The story was clearly over, but apparently, the news station had seen fit to play a slideshow featuring The Marauders, backed up mysterious-sounding music. Internally, Lily scoffed at this; it wasn't as if they were _dead_ or anything.

Petunia, she noticed, was still gaping at the screen, blinking stupidly. Lily was surprised she wasn't in hysterics by now. Almost as if her thinking this had acted as a prompt of sorts, Petunia had a delayed reaction and suddenly shrieked, the ear-splitting sound causing Lily to wince. "_What?_" She looked horrified. "_Disappeared? _How on earth can they just be _gone_? How... how could they just ABANDON their fans like that?"

Lily raised her eyebrows and surprised herself by saying, "Are you kidding, Petunia? Standing up Val DeMort is like the one decent thing they've done in their entire career."

Petunia whipped around and fixed Lily with a death glare. "Of course, _you_ wouldn't understand," she said coldly, before getting up and storming away like a two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. "This is HORRIBLE!" she heard from the top of the stairs, right before the sound of a slamming door.

Rolling her eyes at her sister's antics, Lily turned back to face the television. The slide show had come to an end, freezing on a black and white picture of the Marauders as the final notes of music played, and Lily couldn't help but examine their faces with newly-found admiration.

Wait a second. Admiration? No, that wasn't possible. The Marauders were arrogant, annoying, assholes - and a thousand other things starting with "a", but "admirable" wasn't anywhere on that list. Startled at the fact that she had considered it even for one second, Lily snatched up the remote and pressed the "off" button, and with a click and a flash of light, the Marauders' faces disappeared.

* * *

Somewhere in the outskirts of Gryffindale, the soft hum of a car's engine stopped abruptly and gave way to silence.

The car was not fancy in make or aesthetics; it was plain, black, and just big enough to fit the four teenage boys who sat nervously on its worn-out seats. It wasn't all that fast, it was boxy rather than sleek, and its paint job could probably use a touch up. Or a miracle. In short, it was the last kind of car one would expect to be driven by four multimillionaires with some of the most recognised faces in Britain.

That was precisely why it was so perfect.

Sirius had been less than thrilled when James, who tended to be the voice of authority in the band, had pointed to it in his uncle's auto shop and said, "It's perfect," when it was, in fact, the farthest thing from perfect since Peter's attempted solo career. But it only took a little reminder of how dire their situation was - and permission to name it "the Maraudermobile" - before Sirius was shutting up and sliding gingerly into the passenger seat.

None of them were particularly fond of the Maraudermobile. It was uncomfortable and made horrible noises when pushed to go faster than a snail's pace. Having recently departed from a life of luxury, these rock stars had high standards. The car met none of them.

And yet, when they'd finally reached their destination and James pulled up next to the curb, nobody seemed to want to leave its confines.

"Well," said James, "this is it."

"It" referred to a few different things: "it" as in the end of their journey, and time to find out whether or not this had really been a good idea after all; "it" as in Gryffindale, the town they'd chosen for its seclusion and tiny population; and finally "it", the Leaky Cauldron, the dingy (and somewhat questionably named) hotel they'd just pulled up to.

"I don't like it," said Sirius in a low voice the moment he glanced out the window.

"Of course you don't," scoffed Remus from the back seat. "It's two and a half stars, at most. And you're a princess."

"I am NOT a bloody prin-"

"Can we eat?" Peter put forward this question in a tone which made it clear that he had not been listening to a word of his friends' banter.

James regarded the pudgy boy through the rear-view mirror with an incredulous expression. "Seriously, Pete? We're about to meet our doom in a piece of shit hotel and all you can think of is food?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "This is Peter we're talking about - If there were an earthquake, he'd be sitting in the middle of it, stuffing his face."

"That's not true!"

Three sets of eyebrows rose simultaneously and three sceptical expressions were shot in Peter's direction. "Pete," said Sirius bluntly, "remember the earthquake last year when we were in LA?"

Peter looked puzzled. "There was an earthquake?"

"Yeah," said James. "The rest of us were busy trying to stop all our shit from breaking, and you were too engrossed in your hot dog to notice."

Sirius burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter and Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Remus cut in, bringing them all crashing back to reality. "Guys, seriously, shut up. Are we going inside or not?"

James cast another dubious look at the questionable-looking establishment. "Do we really have a choice?"

"Well, we could always go back to London," Sirius pointed out, and then chuckled darkly.

Like a bucket of ice water over their heads, his words sent a chill through the air. This sinister reminder, however, seemed to be exactly the reality check that they needed to proceed - not five seconds later, the four boys were out of the car and making their way toward the heavily fingerprinted glass door of the Leaky Cauldron. Despite their hastily-invented disguises, they walked with their heads down and tried to keep a low profile as they entered. This proved somewhat difficult when Peter, despite watching all three of his friends go through the correct door, somehow managed to walk straight into the adjacent glass pane and fall to the ground in a heap. While Remus and James glanced shiftily around at the few people present in the tiny lobby, Sirius hoisted Peter up by the back of his jacket and muttered (his voice so low that nobody else could hear), "Way to draw attention, Wormtail."

Trying to keep the nervousness out of their tread, the Marauders moved toward the front desk with purpose. When the receptionist looked up over her horn-rimmed glasses, James cleared his throat and said, "Uh, we'd like to request a room for four, please - for one week. Preferably with separate beds."

The receptionist failed to offer so much as a nod or a smile before turning to her outdated computer screen and tapping in a few numbers. Her eyes roamed up and down the screen for a few moments, and then she turned back to the Marauders, her face as hard and expressionless as ever. "We've got a vacancy on the fourth floor. D'you want it?"

The Marauders couldn't help but be appalled by her lack of eloquence. James, however, tried to keep his disgust from showing as he replied "That would be great," with a tight smile.

After a few more clicks and taps, the woman extracted a yellow sheet of paper from her desk drawer and spent a ridiculous amount of time painstakingly copying down the details. As they waited, Sirius tapped his fingers on the peeling linoleum that covered the desk in impatience and Peter gaped indiscreetly at every person who passed through the lobby.

Finally, the receptionist set down her pen. "That'll be four hundred pounds," she said brusquely. "And I'll need to see some I.D."

The Marauders exchanged uneasy expressions. As many experiences as they'd had with hotels throughout their career, none of those had involved giving any sort of identification. They were rock gods, after all. Anybody with a functioning brain would recognise them.

Unfortunately, this was one situation where they could not, under any circumstances, be recognised. Giving this receptionist something with their names on it would be suicide; everything they'd been through - the escape, the horrible car, the treacherous drive to get here - would be for nothing. If they didn't think of anything, well... to put it simply, they were screwed.

They tried to convey their thoughts through facial expressions, but, judging by the looks of helplessness and "I got nothing" going around in their little telepathic conversation, each Marauder was just as confused as the next. When they realised that there was, in fact, nothing they _could_ do, they all began to panic. Glancing around the lobby, every pair of eyes was suddenly menacing, every person who passed by was on the verge of recognising them and revealing their secret, and the whole room took on an eerie, sinister feel.

"Uh, on second thought," said James, beginning to back away from the desk (the others followed suit, clearly thinking exactly what he was), "we don't need the room. Thanks anyway."

And they were out the door in a heartbeat.

"Crazy, crazy, crazy," James muttered to himself as the four of them piled back into the Maraudermobile. When the last door had swung shut, he took to expressing these sentiments more loudly. "We were bloody CRAZY to think we had any chance of hiding from him. SHIT!" He pounded his fist violently on the dashboard and then proceeded to drag the same hand through his already ruffled black hair, looking thoroughly distressed. "Even in a town this small, we can't go anywhere without telling people who we are. What the hell are we supposed to do?"

"Calm down, mate," said Remus in a low tone.

"Calm down?" James demanded, turning to stare at his friend with wild eyes. "Fuck, Remus! Do you know what he does to people who betray him? If he finds us, we're as good as dead!"

In the long moment of silence following this statement, the bleak outlook of their predicament began to creep in. Peter and Remus exchanged hopeless glances in the back seat while up front, Sirius stared out the window with a melancholy frown on his face.

After a few minutes, when James' ragged breathing began to slow, Peter dared to speak up.

"So... where do we go now?"

* * *

Lily was busy chopping carrots for dinner when she heard the doorbell ring.

Her mother, who was on the phone with a colleague, called out from the other room. "Could you get that, Lily dear?"

Petunia was still locked away in her bedroom (she'd claimed she needed time to "deal" with the aftermath of this afternoon's shock) and Mr. Evans had not yet returned from work, so Lily had no choice but to comply. She couldn't say she minded, though. It was a welcome - if only temporary - reprieve from the monotony of kitchen work, throughout which all she seemed to be able to think about was the ordeal with the Val DeMort and the Marauders. It was all so... strange. And unbelievable.

No, she didn't want to dwell on it. And besides, speaking of her father, that was probably him at the door right then, home early from the office. Lily's mood lifted considerably at the thought.

But it wasn't Mr. Evans. Instead, Vernon Dursley stood in the doorway, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he peered nervously at her through his thick-framed glasses. When he saw that she wasn't Petunia, he exhaled heavily and pushed past Lily into the house.

Lily was used to this reaction. Vernon tried to hide it, but anybody would be a fool not to pick up on his obsession with Petunia Evans. Lily, for one, had known for many years now. Vernon lived across the street, and he'd been friends with the Evans sisters since before they'd started school. But at some point, he'd begun blatantly ignoring Lily and focusing all his affability on the taller, slimmer, pale-haired sister, who, ironically, treated him like a piece of dirt. Lily always made an effort to be kind to Vernon, even though she often wondered what he could _possibly_ see in somebody as annoying as Petunia, but Vernon barely even looked at her anymore. To him, she was just another medium of communicating with his "future wife", especially when Petunia was avoiding him and sent Lily to do her dirty work. While that part wasn't very enjoyable, Lily didn't really have anything against Vernon - after all, they'd been good friends once, and to be honest, the whole thing kind of amused her. She got a kick out of watching Petunia squirm under Vernon's adoring gaze.

"Is Petunia home?" Vernon asked, trying to sound casual but failing. His voice was desperately hopeful.

"Err, she is," said Lily tentatively, "but she's... not really in a state to talk right now. Can I take a message for her?"

Vernon looked exasperated and shook his head quickly. "No, no, that won't do. I'm going blackberry picking and I wanted to see if she'd join me. Are you sure she won't talk? Where is she?" Vernon began to make his way further into the house, and Lily followed him, hoping he wouldn't go up to Petunia's room. Alas, he headed straight for the staircase - so Lily grabbed the back of his jacket and stopped him in his tracks.

"Sorry, Vern," she said when he turned around and regarded her with a startled expression, as if noticing for the first time that she was actually _there_, and not just some incorporeal being acting as his conscience. Lily wanted to roll her eyes at this, but instead offered an apologetic smile and continued to explain. "Petunia's _really_ upset right now. But if you want," she offered, "I'll go with you instead."

Vernon shook his head stubbornly. "No, no, I need Petunia. Where is she? Why is she so upset?"

Lily tried not to be insulted by his shameless dismissal of her offer. "She's sort of... grieving over her beloved."

She should have known not to say it, but she couldn't help it - the only thing that came naturally when she spoke of Petunia's obsession with James Potter was ridicule. In this case, her choice of words was unfortunate; Vernon's eyes lit up with rage and his usual pallour deepened to an unflattering shade of purple as his hands balled up into fists. He looked like he was going to explode.

"Her _beloved_?" he growled, obviously trying to sound menacing but - again - failing quite miserably. "Not that _Potter_ bloke again? I swear, I'll grind him into dust! That egotistical, girl-stealing swine... He and his mates think they can just go around butchering the beautiful art of music... but I'll show him! I'll-"

"Okay, time to go," said Lily, unable to feign patience any longer. Vernon didn't seem bothered by her kicking him out. He let her steer him by the shoulders back to the front door, muttering furiously about the Marauders all the while. Once he was out the door, Lily gave a little wave goodbye. "See you, Vernon," she said, but he didn't even turn around to acknowledge her as he walked across the lawn.

Lily closed the door and sighed; all this drama was beginning to drive her crazy. She couldn't wait to get out of here.

* * *

"Please tell me you're joking."

Sirius' tone was positively murderous as he stared at the decrepit barn in front of him, horror-struck.

James rubbed his temples. After unintentionally driving the Maraudermobile into a ditch, they'd been left without a mode of transport and, more importantly, without sufficient concealment from any prying eyes they might run into, save for their feeble disguises. So they'd opted for the next best thing - a forest of tall pine trees. After traipsing through much of it with nothing but the clothes on their backs and a couple of guitar cases, they'd soon found themselves completely and utterly lost. Finally, James had stumbled upon a piece of open land, at the edge of which sat the tired-looking barn. It was pretty shitty, but it was probably the only option they had at this point. "Got a better idea?" he questioned flatly.

"Yeah, here's one: it's called 'Let's _not_ sleep in a pile of animal crap tonight'."

Remus rolled his eyes and muttered "_Princess,_" just as Peter burst out from a cluster of trees, looking disoriented. "There you guys are!" he gasped.

James regarded him with raised eyebrows. "Where've you been?"

"Got lost," he muttered, crossing his arms over his rather prominent gut. "You _could _have waited up, you know!"

Remus shot the boy a look of complete bafflement. "Pete, we were like, _leisurely strolling _the whole way here."

Peter opened his mouth, but before he could defend himself, James called out "Oi, guys! C'mere!" He had opened the decaying door of the barn and was flagging them over.

In an instant, all four boys were staring through the doorway and into a darkened, hay-strewn space.

It was a building of simple design, without much in the way of contents. The small, rectangular room was dingy and lit only by sunlight filtering in through the holes in the roof. With a floor covered in dirt and who-knew-what-else, discarded wooden crates and bales of hay lining the walls and a (probably unreliable) wooden ladder leading to a modest upper level, it wasn't much. But did they have any other choice?

"See?" said James. "It's not that bad." But even he wasn't convinced as he spoke these words, and after a quick look around the place, the other Marauders returned to their original state of disgust.

"_Not that bad?_" Sirius said incredulously. "Where do you suppose we're going to sleep, then?" He took a step inside to scope out potential "beds", but stopped a couple of metres in and sniffed the air. "Bloody hell. What _is_ that?"

James, who had followed him inside, gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. "I don't know, mate, but you'd better get used to it. This is home - at least until we come up with a better idea."

Sirius groaned. Peter, still panting from the trek through the forest, lumbered through the door and sat down on the nearest bale of hay. Something made a squelching noise as he did - and though Peter didn't seem to notice this, the others grimaced at the sound.

Remus was the last to enter. "Yeah," he said as he took his first step in, and sighed. "Home, sweet home."

* * *

Petunia stayed in her room until dinnertime.

It took a fair amount of convincing to get her to stop moping around and come downstairs, but somehow, the draw of grilled cod and garden salad finally won her over. (Lily really worried about her sister's sanity at times.)

Still, as she sat at the table with the rest of the family, Petunia merely picked at her food. Her expression was perpetually glum, her eyes fixated on her plate, her chin rested in her palm as she poked her fork for the umpteenth time into her fish fillet.

The moment the table was cleared, she disappeared into her room once again without so much as a word. While her parents seemed concerned about this behaviour, Lily found the entire situation to be quite comical. When you really thought about it, it was completely ridiculous for someone to get so worked up about the supposed disappearance of someone they didn't even know. She tried to share this belief with Petunia, but her sister responded with a look so witheringly vile that it was a miracle Lily didn't crumble to the ground in a pile of ashes right then and there.

Shortly after dinner, Lily found herself wandering back into the kitchen for a snack. The meagre selection of fish and lettuce at dinner had left her stomach feeling very dissatisfied, and she had a hankering for an ice cream cone (although, given the state of things, a bowl of yoghurt and berries would probably have to suffice). The moment she stepped through the doorway, however, there was a frantic crinkling noise and the sound of a cupboard door slamming, and she found herself face to face with her father. He was standing next to the pantry with a guilty expression on his face, which was merely enhanced by the fact that his cheeks were stuffed full of food.

Upon seeing her there, Bob Evans let out a sigh of relief and swallowed. "Ah, Lilybear. I thought you were your mother." With a sheepish laugh, he pulled the pantry open again and reached up to the very top corner, where he and Lily kept a secret stash of what they liked to call 'real food'. "I should've known it was you – you've always had amazing junk food radar."

Lily's mouth began to water as he pulled down a package of salt and vinegar chips. "Gimme!" she squealed, launching herself at the bag and stuffing a handful of greasy goodness into her mouth. "Mmm… saturated fat," she moaned, delving in for another handful.

Bob laughed, and his green eyes – so much like Lily's – lit up, giving his face a boyish glow. "Better save some for tomorrow," he advised, pulling the chips away from his daughter's greedy hands and stowing them back in their hiding spot. "I think your mother's making boiled tofu again."

"Ew, barf," said Lily, scrunching her face up in disgust.

Bob chuckled and ruffled her hair affectionately. "That's my girl."

Later that evening, Lily was on her way outside to complete her nightly task of topping up the cat's food and water dishes. It was unfortunate that Teresa happened to choose this exact moment to send Petunia out with the garbage and recycling; the two of them ended up heading out the door one right after the other.

Petunia refused to hold the door open for her sister, but Lily expected no less. She had a hand free to catch it before it swung back and bowled her over. Petunia headed around to the back porch and down the steps; Lily followed at a distance. What was _also_ unfortunate was that they were headed in the same direction - although, to be honest, that was actually Petunia's fault. A couple of months ago, she'd complained about how gross it was that Harry ate his "slimy meat food" in the same room where the Evans family consumed their meals. Being a people-pleaser (well, more of a Petunia-pleaser), Teresa had fulfilled her daughter's request and had Harry's food dishes moved out to the shed behind the house. (Lily found this incredibly unfair; had she complained that Petunia clipped her toenails in the same bathroom where Lily brushed her teeth every morning, it would have been a similarly ridiculous argument. But would it have been acknowledged? Absolutely not.) Of course, the garbage bins just happened to be lined up along the side of the shed. Lily hadn't trusted Petunia around garbage bins since an unfortunate incident three years prior involving Lily, Petunia's surprising lifting strength, and... well, a garbage bin.

Lily kept her distance and hoped that they could get through this little excursion without exchanging a word. That was probably the safest option for the both of them. Petunia, however, had a different idea. As soon as Lily opened a can of salmon to put in Harry's bowl, Petunia sniffed disgustedly and complained, "Eww, gross! Get that stuff away from me!" even though she was nowhere near her.

Naturally, Lily couldn't just stand there and tolerate her unfounded grumbling, so she smirked, pulled the lid right off the salmon and strolled over to Petunia. "No, seriously, it smells great! Try some," she said, shoving it under Petunia's nose and watching her sister's expression change from irritated to horror-struck.

Petunia screamed, swatting the can out of Lily's grasp and causing it to tumble onto her front. Pink salmon cascaded down Lily's tank top.

"Oh, that's just brilliant," said Lily, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she assessed the damage and grimaced. "That's two of my shirts you've ruined today. And now Harry's getting dry food for dinner."

As she headed back into the shed to find alternate food for the cat, she heard Petunia mutter, "Serves you right. Both of you." She ignored this remark and filled up Harry's dishes, wishing as she did so that it was Petunia who was forced to eat her meals in the shed, and not her comparatively warm-hearted cat.

Since Petunia was terribly slow with the garbage, using a hand wipe to open the lid and standing back as she gingerly dropped each bag into the bin, Lily was the first to finish her chore. She walked briskly on her way back to the house. It was a far jaunt, their property being so large, but she was halfway there by the time she heard the lid of the recycling bin fall shut; Petunia gave a little yelp, presumably alarmed at the waft of "garbage air" that was emitted as this happened.

Lily rolled her eyes. As she did this, she caught a glimpse of something at the far end of the property. Across the field, behind a couple of oak trees, was the old barn house, neglected over the past decade or so and half-deteriorated by years of harsh weather and a lack of maintenance. Lily hadn't visited the barn since she was very, very young. Even then, it had been intriguing and frightening, a temporary fixation to satisfy Lily's curiosity. She'd taken Petunia back there one summer's night, lured her in, closed the door on her and run back to the house. Apparently, Petunia didn't have very good navigational skills in the dark, because she hadn't been able to get out until she'd been retrieved by her father and carried back in tears. Lily was grounded for three weeks. Petunia was scarred for life.

Needless to say, nobody had ventured back to the barn ever since.

So it was strange, now, that as Lily glanced inadvertently in that direction, she saw a miniscule light shining at the back of the field.

She stopped in her tracks and narrowed her eyes, wondering if she was hallucinating. Nope, it was definitely there. A shiver swept through her at the sight of it, but at the same time, she was fascinated. Just like when she was a child, she felt drawn toward the barn by an eerie sort of curiosity. It was almost pitch black out by now, but really, how bad could it be? Without giving it another thought, Lily deposited the water bottle she'd used to fill Harry's dish and began to walk purposefully in the direction of the mysterious light.

"Wh-where are you going?" Petunia asked suddenly. In her voice was a combination of annoyance and anxiety; annoyance at the fact that Lily was doing something strange and impulsive, and anxiety, no doubt, because she was being left alone in the darkness in the middle of their vast yard with nothing to protect her but a plastic recycling box.

"Like you care," Lily said dully.

"You can't leave me here alone!" Petunia's voice was so high-pitched, so grating, that Lily cringed and was forced to stop once again.

She swivelled around, made a _duh_ sort of face at Petunia, and said, "Well then, you're going to have to come with me, aren't you?"

As expected, Petunia froze up and adamantly shook her head. "NO. No way am I going back there. Not in a million years."

Lily turned around exasperatedly and continued to walk across the field. "Then for goodness' sake, Petunia, shut your pie hole." She quickened her pace.

A couple of seconds, and then, predictably...

"Wait!"

Petunia hurried along behind her; evidently, her fear of being alone in the dark had won out over her reluctance to visit _that place_ again. Lily couldn't say she hadn't expected this, but she wasn't particularly pleased at having acquired a companion. As they crossed the darkened field, drawn toward the light in the corner, Petunia jumped at the tiniest noises, kept glancing around as if something was about to jump out at her at any moment, and at one point actually grabbed onto the back of Lily's shirt in her panic.

"This is a _really_ bad idea," Petunia hissed as they approached the closest tree to the barn. "You're not just going to lock me in there again, a-?"

Lily shushed her impatiently and dragged her behind the tree. She was focused on the voices she'd just picked up on, drifting toward them from inside the dilapidated building. There was the unmistakable sound of male laughter, the occasional girlish whimper, and one voice that was deeper than all the others, speaking in a slow, spine-chilling monotone.

Imitating one of the voices in the barn, Petunia whimpered. "I told you this was a bad idea!" she whispered. "You're going to get us murdered! Who knows what could be in there - it's probably a serial killer on the run, or a monster, or a-"

Lily had had enough. She pivoted on her heel, slapped a hand over her sister's mouth and fixed her with a harsh look. She tried to keep her voice low, but it was difficult to suppress her rising anger. "Shut your goddamn mouth, Petunia, or I swear, I will put you out there as bait. Do you understand?"

Wide-eyed and stunned into silence, Petunia nodded hurriedly. Lily pulled her hand away and gave the barn one last glance from her lookout point before stepping out from behind the tree and beginning to tiptoe across the remaining stretch of lawn.

With Petunia close behind, Lily approached the barn. When she was less than three metres from the door, she began to pick up on distinct bits of conversation.

"_And then the werewolf creeps up behind the unsuspecting traveller, and... _BANG!" Somebody shrieked at this; next to Lily, Petunia jumped. "_Snaps his neck!_"

"Oooh, I'm scared," said another voice mockingly. "Honestly, these stories suck. Where did you get them from - Pete's bedtime story collection?"

Lily didn't hear anymore, because Petunia had begun to tug urgently on her arm.

"_What?_" she hissed as quietly as possible.

For once, Petunia showed some common sense and kept her voice to minimal volume as well. Her eyes, however, told Lily that she would have spoken much louder, had they not been in such a situation. "_I know that voice!_" she whispered excitedly. "_I would know that voice anywhere!_"

Lily shot her a confused look, but decided not to ask questions. Instead, she took the final few steps that led her to the barn door, reached out tentatively for the handle...

...And, in one swift motion, threw the door open.

The voices stopped abruptly.

Petunia shrieked.

Four boys sat completely still in the centre of the barn, their faces frozen in various expressions. They were gathered together on a cluster of hay bales; one, with shaggy black hair, held a flashlight to his chin and had his mouth open in shock. To his left, a rather pudgy boy looked scared out of his mind, and the other two wore similar looks of horror, as if they'd been caught in some despicable act.

But they hadn't done anything terribly wrong. What had caused Petunia to shriek - and Lily to go rigid from head to toe - had been the mere sight of their four faces.

Four faces which were startlingly familiar.

The Marauders.

* * *

**A/N:** Hi, and welcome to the story! We hope you enjoyed the first instalment. A little background information for you...

In case you were wondering, we're not Gollum - there are actually two of us. We swears it. If you don't believe us, go check out **RainbowCrystal** and **PrincessEarth**. (Actually, even if you do believe us, go anyway. We need the readers.)

We were inspired to write this story after we watched the Disney movie "Starstruck" (don't judge us). Being the Harry Potter freaks that we are, the first thing we thought when we saw the interactions between the main girl and her sister was "ZOMG! It's Lily and Petunia!" So, naturally, we blew that out of proportion until a story emerged. Having said that, the resulting plot actually has nothing in common with Starstruck at all - except for the title.

As you might have noticed, this story doesn't involve any magic at all (aside from the magic of looove, that is). We're sorry if that bothers you, but we're trying to create as many parallels between this universe and the magical one as we can. You'll see.

We'll do our best to update frequently. Seeing as there are two of us, that shouldn't be too hard. Oh, and, you know... LEAVE A REVIEW OR DIE. Just had to get that out there... :)

Sinseerlie,

Liz and Sam

(_Seven Scribbles)_


	2. Stars in Her Eyes

**Disclaimer:** Do we own this? Well, let's see... Last time we checked, there weren't _two_ J.K. Rowlings. There are, however, two of us—and therein lies your answer.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Stars in Her Eyes

* * *

Lily did a double take.

No, it couldn't be them. Not _here_. Not in her barn. Not in flipping _Gryffindale, _for crying out loud.

But as many times as she tried to blink the image away, it remained fixed in front of her wide eyes: four boys, all with horrified expressions on their faces, all looking exactly the same as (if a little more dishevelled than) she'd seen them in the posters plastered all over Petunia's pink walls. There was Sirius Black, the one with the flashlight, sporting his long-ish, ragged black locks and those dark good looks he was so famous for; Remus Lupin, the broody drum player, the whole deer-in-the-headlights look throwing off his usual act of intense seriousness; Peter Pettigrew, with his squat stature and pale, watery eyes, who was often banished to the far back of group pictures for exactly these reasons; and finally, James Potter, the arrogant lead singer, who seemed to have misplaced his trademark crooked grin for the first time in his life as he stared at the two girls in terror.

Oh, it was them alright.

But... how?

And more importantly, WHY?

Lily might have voiced some of the questions whizzing around in her mind, but the shock was too much to handle. She stood completely still, rooted to the spot with her tongue tied. She could do little more than take in the scene over and over again, her eyes repeatedly skimming from left to right as she tried to assess the situation: The Marauders, a band who'd done nothing but irritate her since their rise to fame, and yet a band so famous around the world that she'd never really thought of them as solid human beings, more an unattainable fantasy of teenage girls worldwide—here, right in front of her, in the flesh. She could only imagine what Petunia must be going through right now.

At that thought, she chanced a look at her sister—and oh, dear Lord, was it ever a sight to see. Petunia looked like she'd been doused in liquid nitrogen from head to toe. Every muscle in her body seemed to be frozen; she didn't even appear to be breathing. Her lips were parted, her eyes widened in astonishment and fixed firmly on the four boys in front of her—but she wasn't looking _at_ them, really. Her gaze was so blank, it was almost as if she'd fainted while miraculously managing to stay on her feet. Lily had half a mind to prod her and see if she would fall over, but tormenting her sister was the last thing on her mind right now—and besides, before she had the chance to test such suspicions, a male voice—its pitch heightened a little out of nervousness—shattered the intense silence.

"Hey there," it said hesitantly.

Slowly, she turned to face the Marauders again. It was James who had spoken; though Lily was loath to admit it, she recognized his voice fairly easily for its smooth, melodic quality.

Because Petunia still looked like a film stuck on pause, Lily was forced to respond. "Hi," she deadpanned back.

All four pairs of eyes had shifted onto Lily now, making her uncomfortable. She had a feeling Petunia would speak out in protest at this if her vocal chords hadn't ceased all function.

Sirius, who was still holding the flashlight stupidly against his fallen jaw, cleared his throat and moved it away, placing it on the hay beside him. Its intensity was diminished a little, but it still managed to cast an eerie glow over the scene.

"Er... right. Sorry, we were just trying to spook each other a bit—seemed like the right sort of setting, you know?"

Lily did not answer.

"We didn't realize this place actually belonged to anyone," added James. "It looked sort of forgotten, a bit of a pigsty rea—"

"Not that this isn't a lovely barn," Remus put in hurriedly, shooting an admonishing look at his dark-haired friend.

"Yes, we're, er, very glad for your... hospitality and everything, but we really ought to be going, so..."

James stood up and the others followed; they began to make their way cautiously toward the exit. Lily, still quite baffled, was about to step out of the doorway to let them through when all of a sudden—

"ARE YOU THE MARAUDERS?"

The ear-splitting shriek pierced into the awkward atmosphere, causing all four of the Marauders—as well as Lily—to jump about a metre in the air and turn, startled, to the undeniable source of the noise. Evidently, Petunia had recovered from her temporary state of refrigeration; she still looked just as blown away by the sight of the four boys she so idolized, but her stunned silence had been replaced by a giddy sort of excitement as she stared at them, bug-eyed and jittery.

The four boys exchanged wary glances, probably trying to communicate telepathically in order to get their story straight. When they didn't answer straightaway, Petunia took this as an opportunity to resume her fangirl-ish fussing.

"I mean, that's a stupid question... Of course you are!" she corrected herself, shaking her head in a flustered gesture. "I would recognize you anywhere—the lot of you! But James... especially James... I swear, I'm your biggest fan! I know I've never been to any of your concerts so you won't have seen me before, but it's only because I can't; we live too far away, and my parents are stupid about it—they won't let me go anywhere faraway unless Lily goes with me, and Lily's a freak, she doesn't want to go, she thinks you're all a bunch of egotistical morons... but I don't, not at all! I have all your albums! And posters—seventy-six, to be exact! James, you're my favourite! I love you so much, I can't believe it's really y—"

James coughed loudly and rudely, causing Petunia to cut her mindless rambling short and stare at him. She didn't look embarrassed at all; it was more of an awed expression she wore—awed at having been interrupted by somebody as famous as James Potter.

"Look, I'm sorry if you thought we were somebody you knew," said James slowly, as if talking to a small child, "but you must be confused—we're not who you think we are..."

Sirius scoffed unconvincingly. "Yeah, I mean—us? The Marauders? Aren't they supposed to be like, really, really ridiculously good-looking?"

Remus elbowed him furiously in the ribs as if to say "too much, mate". Indeed, it was a feeble attempt at throwing them off; even Lily could tell they were lying, and she rarely (if ever) studied pictures of them in detail. Petunia was another story altogether—she'd probably memorized every square inch of their faces, every hair on their heads, every birthmark or freckle that would distinguish them from uncanny lookalikes. As expected, she hurried to demonstrate this disturbingly extensive knowledge of their physical appearances by saying:

"You _are_ the Marauders! I'm sure of it—and I can prove it!" Practically shaking with excitement, Petunia lunged into the barn, snatched up the flashlight off the dilapidated bale of hay and brandished it like a weapon. "If you're Remus," she said, starting with the Marauder farthest from the door, "then you'll have a tattoo of a wolf print on the back of your neck. Do you mind if I check?" She had, seemingly, built up a little more confidence in addressing the Marauders now that she had the means of proving that she was indeed their number one fan.

"Petunia, shut it—this is ridiculous. Just leave them be," said Lily, shocking herself a little by speaking for the first time in ages, not to mention—wait, had she really done it?—defending the Marauders. It wasn't so much defending them, she realised, as trying to put an end to this mayhem. She'd never liked the Marauders, and the whole experience of running into them on her home turf was getting a little too weird for her. While she would like to give them a piece of her mind for several reasons, she found herself thoroughly uncomfortable seeing them here, in person, and would be quite fine if they left without another word. Now, however, Petunia had put them in a tricky situation, and while they could probably make a run for it, they had apparently deemed that out of the question by now.

Remus froze up; if he showed Petunia the tattoo that (Lily was certain) was most definitely on the back of his neck, she would, no doubt, start squealing her head off again and probably stalk them for the rest of their lives. If he didn't... well, that would elicit a similar reaction, because his reluctance would give them away. Remus, apparently struggling with this decision, looked apprehensively at the others. They shrugged helplessly (all but Peter, who looked a little oblivious), leaving Remus with no choice. He sighed and turned around.

Petunia gave a little leap of excitement and hastened at her chance; she shone the flashlight at the nape of Remus' neck, and there, underneath a thin cover of blonde-brown hair, was a solid black tattoo in the shape of a wolf's paw print. Petunia gasped, even though she could only have been expecting it. "There, see?" she said triumphantly. "You're Moony."

Remus sighed in defeat and stepped aside, allowing Petunia to turn the flashlight on Peter. The boy looked scared and flinched as she pulled back the collar of his jacket, but all the same, allowed her to complete the examination as he tugged nervously at his sleeves. "Wormtail," Petunia deduced. She moved on to Sirius, whose shaggy hair she had to lift out of the way in order to reveal the tattoo. (As soon as her hand made contact with his dark locks, he shouted "Hey, watch the hair!" but she ignored him.) "Padfoot." At last she turned to James, seemed to realize that pretending was a lost cause at this stage and proudly displayed his mark. Petunia sighed dreamily; "Prongs..."

Lily snorted. Despite the circumstances, she couldn't help letting a little bit of resentment toward the Marauders show through. "What the hell kinds of names are those?"

This was one of the many moments when Petunia looked exceptionally embarrassed to be her sister. "Don't you know _anything_?" she exclaimed in exasperation. "It's his nickname in the band, of course! They all have one, and tattoos to correspond. Each of them has an animal alias: the wolf, the rat, the dog and the stag. It's a token of their friendship—their brotherhood."

Petunia had, no doubt, memorized those lines from some pathetic teen magazine whose editors were just as enraptured with the Marauders' supposed "charm" as she was. Lily rolled her eyes, folded her arms and took a step back in an attempt to remove herself from this twisted situation; unfortunately, James noticed this gesture and turned his attention to her, plastering on that crooked grin of his.

"I take it you're Lily?" he asked, clearly amused. "The one who thinks we're 'egotistical morons'?" His eyes twinkled playfully, and she couldn't help but notice them wandering—down the length of her body, and back up again to her face. She'd known him to be full of himself, but this was something else altogether; here he was, unashamedly checking her out, as if it wouldn't bother her in the slightest, as if she should be somehow _appreciative_ of the fact that he had taken an interest in her. Lily felt sick, insulted.

"Yep, that was me," she said icily, narrowing her eyes at him. "Although if I'd met you in person at the time, I'd have used much str—"

Petunia slapped a hand over her mouth before she could let rip the string of insults she had prepared for him. "Ignore her," she said pleasantly, as Lily yanked at her wrist. Thanks to Petunia's pathetic upper body strength, it was an easy feat, but Lily didn't bother picking up where she'd left off; instead, she crossed her arms in defiance and glared at the four dirt-covered boys.

James smirked at her outburst. "Bit touchy, aren't you? Kind of like a firecracker with that hair of yours."

Lily glared and ignored this comment. "Well, as much of a _pleasure _it was to meet you all," she began acidly. "You can leave now. You're trespassing, you know."

"Lily!" Petunia gasped in horror before the Marauders had a chance to reply. "You can't just tell them to leave! It's _the Marauders_!"

"Do I look like I care, Petunia?" She turned back to face the four boys and crossed her arms defiantly. "Well? What are you waiting for? The door's right there."

The Marauders ignored Lily's hand, which was pointing toward the exit, and exchanged similar expressions—expressions that Lily didn't like the look of one bit.

"Actually," James started, with something resembling apology in his tone. "We er, can't really do that."

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"The truth is… we're in a bit of trouble right now," Remus admitted.

At this, Petunia gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth dramatically. "Of course! I almost forgot! You're on the run!"

Lily, too, had temporarily forgotten the news report they'd seen that morning—with Val DeMort, the Val-Mart opening, and the Marauders' no-show—but, now that she was reminded of it, the whole Marauders-in-Gryffindale thing made a lot more sense. If they were on the run from Val and those who worked for him (who, from what she'd learned about Val DeMort's business methods, were more henchmen than employees), it would only be fitting to go some place small and remote; someplace nobody would think to look for them. But what that _didn't_ explain was why they had to stay here, of all places, and couldn't just leave Lily and Petunia alone.

The Marauders remained silent, but it was clear that Petunia had hit the nail on the head. They shuffled their feet awkwardly and Peter began tugging on his sleeves once more. Lily, however, still didn't understand exactly where they were going with this.

"So go be on the run somewhere else then," she said slowly, irritation dripping from every syllable.

The boys exchanged those looks again, and James hesitated before replying: "The thing is, now that you know who we are, we can't leave."

Lily, whose patience was quickly wearing thin, felt her eyes open wide in exasperation. "Why the hell not?" she demanded.

"Because!" Sirius exclaimed, sounded almost annoyed. "We've got to keep an eye on you now, haven't we?"

While Lily sputtered angrily, Petunia looked delighted. "Keep an eye on us?" she asked in a dreamy, hopeful tone. Her eyes were focused intently on James. "Like, twenty-four-seven supervision?"

"_Petunia_," Lily snarled. "Don't encourage them!" She rounded back toward Sirius. "'Keep an eye on us'? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, how do we know you're not going to tell everyone that you saw us?" Peter finally piped up by way of explanation.

This comment only made Lily's blood go from a simmer to a violent boil. Could they _be _any more arrogant? "Why would I tell anyone?" she snapped. "None of my friends care about the freaking Marauders."

"Ouch," Sirius commented, eyebrows raised.

James was still regarding her with that appraising expression. "You know, you're kinda hot when you're angry."

"Ugh!" Lily exclaimed, inexplicably infuriated by the arrogant grin on his face. She spun around and stalked toward the door, calling over her shoulder: "This is ridiculous! I'm going back to the house. Come on, Petunia." There was a pause, and her sister failed to respond. "PETUNIA!" she barked.

"You go ahead," Petunia said faintly. "I'm going to… stay here for a while."

Were her head less clouded by anger, Lily might have forced her sister to come with her. Given the circumstances, however, the only thing on her mind was getting as far away from the barn and its despicable inhabitants as possible.

"Fine!" she snapped. "But they'd better be gone tomorrow, or else!"

* * *

The following morning, Lily was awoken by a very strange, very _loud _noise.

"Mmph, go 'way," she muttered sleepily, rolling over in the sea of tangled covers that was her bed. As if in response, the sound picked up its intensity until it was blasting shrilly in her ears. God, what was it? It sounded like a plane taking off, or someone being mauled by a rabid grizzly bear, or…

A hairdryer.

"Petunia," Lily growled, throwing back her bedspread with a murderous expression on her face. Half-asleep, she stumbled down the hallway, zigzagging back and forth and bumping into the wall several times in her state of disorientation. At last, she made it to the bathroom doorway and stopped in front of it, fully intent on giving Petunia a piece of her mind—unfortunately, she was momentarily blinded by the intense light issuing from within and stumbled backward, hitting her head on the wall.

After blinking the bleariness away, Lily squinted into the bathroom, and her suspicions were confirmed.

Petunia stood in front of the mirror, her blonde locks billowing up around her face as she took aim with the hairdryer. Around the bathroom sink, various items were scattered—including a comb, an assortment of earrings and several makeup compacts—and in the far corner, the shower showed signs of recent use. Petunia herself was dressed impeccably in slim white pants and a lightweight, rose-hued sweater, her neck adorned with faux-pearls.

The moment she caught a glimpse of Lily's figure in the mirror, she screamed.

"Lily," she whined, switching off the hairdryer and spinning around to regard her sister's matted hair, crumpled pyjamas and generally gremlin-like appearance with disdain. "Stop trying to scare me!"

Luckily for Petunia, the insult failed to register properly in Lily's half-asleep brain. "For God's sake, Petunia," she moaned, rubbing her eyes. "It's like five in the morning; what on Earth are you doing?"

Her sister picked up a foundation brush and began sweeping it across her face. "Nothing that concerns _you_," she replied stiffly.

Lily scoffed. "Anything that gets me out of bed before nine o'clock _definitely_ concerns me," she retorted, folding her arms. "So yeah, I _would_ like to know why I had to be blasted out of bed at this ungodly hour."

Petunia exhaled and calmly deposited her brush next to the sink. She bit her lip, and for a moment, it looked as though she was about to explain herself—but instead, she blatantly ignored Lily and picked up a tube of lip gloss. She pouted stupidly and began to spread it generously across her lips, evidently trying to forget that her beautification routine had been disrupted at all. That was okay, though, because Lily had figured it out on her own. She was loath to accept the incident at the barn had been anything more than a horrible nightmare, but seeing Petunia here, dressed to impress at five o'clock in the morning... Well, it wasn't doing wonders for her denial. Granted, Petunia was always obsessed with her appearance—but at this hour? If this were a regular occurrence, then Lily would have beaten her sister to death with that hairdryer years ago.

"Please don't tell me you're going out to see if the Marauders are still there."

Petunia said nothing. She was leaning in close to the mirror now, carefully brushing mascara over her eyelashes. That was all Lily needed; from Petunia, no response was as good as an admission of guilt.

The earlier it was, the lower Lily's tolerance for Petunia's snobby antics became—so, purely out of vengeance, she decided to mess with her sister's mind just a little. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but you're too late," she said, trying to look nonchalant as she pretended to inspect her nails. "I saw them leave just then, while I was looking out the window. They're gone."

Petunia froze up at once. Lily could see every muscle in her body go tense, even though she—or anybody, for that matter—would have to be an idiot to fall for Lily's half-assed lie. Apparently, though, this was too sensitive a subject for Petunia to dismiss it so easily; with an expression on her face that was positively lethal despite her visible attempts to control her anger, she turned to Lily and said, "_No_, they said they had to 'keep an eye on us', remember? They aren't going anywhere."

Her logic was undeniably... logical. Lily had tried hard to push that factor out of her head; she simply couldn't fathom the thought of those idiot boys staying in her family's barn all summer, but come to think of it, they _had_ sounded very serious about all that secret business last night. All the same, she raised an eyebrow at Petunia. "Oh, really? And what if they were just messing with us—trying to throw us off so that they could make a quick getaway this morning without us suspecting anything?" she challenged, trying to give her voice a mysterious edge.

With their eyes narrowed and their gazes fiercely locked, they glared at one another for a lengthy moment—Lily keeping up the pretence, Petunia trying to decide whether or not to believe. In the end, she stuck her chin out in determination and stormed out the door, around Lily and down the hallway. She was headed for the stairs, and after that, no doubt, she would be on her way out to the barn to see for herself if the Marauders had stayed put overnight. Lily heaved an exasperated sigh and turned to follow her.

"Petunia, please, don't go out there," she said to her sister's back; there was a strange, almost begging quality to her voice that startled her a little. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into! They're rock stars, for heaven's sake! They're arrogant and manipulative, and they're just going to treat you like dirt, the same way they treat every other ordinary person they meet—you do know that, don't you?"

Petunia's shoulders rose an inch or two, so Lily knew her comment had hit hard—but not hard enough. Petunia's step didn't even falter as she skipped over the last few stairs and headed for the back door; Lily should have known from the beginning that there was no stopping her.

"Petunia, get back here!" she yelled insistently, just as her sister's cashmere-clad back disappeared from sight. When Petunia failed to comply, Lily let out a groan of frustration and launched herself down the staircase. She scrambled toward the door, which was falling shut, and heaved it open.

Squinting against the bright sunlight, she saw Petunia's tall figure a short distance in front of her, making a deliberate beeline for the barn. Without pausing to think about what she was doing, Lily broke into a run and managed not only to catch up with her sister, but to station herself in front of her, effectively blocking her path.

"What are you _doing_?" Petunia hissed, pushing her to the side and continuing on her way, quickening her pace.

Lily rubbed her shoulder and glared at her sister, but didn't relent. She inhaled deeply and took off after her again, easily gaining ground. Though she hadn't been fully aware of her motives to begin with, she now had it down to a couple of reasons for which she was so intent on stopping Petunia: one, going out to visit the Marauders in the barn wouldn't be a favourable move at this stage. Coming to them only went to show that they were obedient and easily controlled, and would make the Marauders think that they had Lily and Petunia eating out of their stupid, lazy, guitar-strumming hands. Plus, maybe Lily was just being naive, but she couldn't help hoping that, if they stayed far away from the barn, the Marauders might get the message and just go away. (Again, she was just being hopeful.) And two, it pained her to admit it, but... she would hate to see Petunia get shot down by the boy she'd spent the last four years of her life pining for. Not really because she cared that much about her sister's feelings, but because she was so pathetically oblivious to everything and, well... it would be cruel not to feel pity for somebody who was about to make a horrible fool of themselves in front of an internationally renowned rock star.

"Petunia, I'm serious!" Lily shouted at her sister's back.

"No, you're not," Petunia shot back without turning around. Her voice was cool and razor-sharp. "Sirius is in _there_." Lily saw her shoulders rise and fall as she sighed in exasperation. "Not that he matters. I know you're jealous, Lily, but you can't stop me from seeing my James."

"Argh! I'm _not_ jealous, Petunia—you know full well I think they're bumbling idiots. And besides, he's not _your_ James—which is exactly my point. You're delusional. I think it would be best if you stayed away from them all."

"La la la la, I can't hear you!" Petunia shouted immaturely, stuffing her fingers in her ears as she hurried on.

"ARGH!" Lily burst out again, feeling very much inclined to stomp on the ground and throw a tantrum out of frustration. "You are _such _an idiot!"

Petunia took her fingers out of her ears and called back derisively: "I know you are, but what am I?"

Normally, Lily would have had an equally pathetic remark to throw back at her sister. She was dismayed, however, to notice that Petunia had stopped abruptly in her tracks. They had arrived outside the dreaded barn.

With a goading look, Petunia reached out a hand toward the ramshackle door.

"Petunia, please." Lily's tone had taken on an air of desperation. "Don't—"

But it was too late. She could only stare on in horror as, with a malicious grin, her sister gave an almighty shove and pushed the door open to reveal the four boys inside.

Correction: The four _snoring_ boys inside.

Needless to say, Petunia was a little bit taken aback when she saw her idols in this state. (How she hadn't expected this when she'd decided to barge in on them at the crack of dawn was beyond Lily, but when Petunia was on a mission, she had a tendency to forget little things like, say, _timing_.) The Marauders, Lily was slightly amused to note, had done a terrible job of setting up sleeping quarters. They'd scattered bales of hay everywhere in their attempts to create a couple of bed-like structures on the ground level, where Peter and Remus slept in uncomfortable-looking positions, limbs hanging off in every which direction. Sirius and James (rather idiotically, given the questionable condition of its support structures) had taken up residence on the upper level, and were lying across the narrow platform on a bed of hay.

The arrangement itself wasn't what made the scene so comical, though. Sirius had an arm dangling over the edge of the wooden plank across which he was sprawled haphazardly, and was snoring in a faint but even rhythm. James' mouth was wide open; a fly was buzzing around it, and a thin line of drool ran down his cheek. Remus had fallen halfway off of his raised bed of hay, twisting his spine into a painful-looking position. Peter, perhaps the most comical of the four, lay face-down in the straw, his knees tucked up underneath him, his arms limp, his bottom raised into the air. His back rose up and down and he emitted a series of snorting, choking sounds as he attempted to breathe through the hay.

Petunia, however startled by the sight before her, was undeterred. With alarming speed and accuracy, her eyes zeroed in on James' sleeping figure and she began drifting toward him as though in a trance.

Lily, who was standing anxiously at the door, let her jaw drop at her sister's impertinence. "Petunia! What the bloody hell are you doing? You're going to wake them!" she exclaimed, lacing her voice with as much anger as a whisper would allow.

"Shh!" Petunia spun around momentarily with a finger held up against her lips and daggers in her eyes. Turning her back to her sister, she rolled up the delicate sleeves of her sweater and cast a glance toward the barn's upper level.

Lily felt her throat go dry. There was no way she was _possibly_ considering …

Oh, she was. Lily felt like smacking a hand to her head as she watched Petunia grab hold of the rickety ladder and begin hoisting herself up, face set in determination.

"You idiot!" she hissed, taking another step into the barn. "Get down from there! I swear to God, Petunia, this is the dumbest thing you have _ever_—_" _

At that moment, Sirius let out a monstrous snore and rolled over, causing the entire barn to shift with a noisy creak. Halfway up the ladder, Petunia froze and held her breath.

By some miracle, however, none of the four slumbering teenagers was awoken by this disturbance. With a sigh of relief, Petunia continued the rest of the way up the ladder and climbed onto the flimsy wooden overhang at the top.

Lily watched in dismay, filled with an inescapable feeling that this was not going to end well. "Petunia…" she croaked, although she knew that her protests were futile at this stage. Indeed, her sister did not even seem to be able to hear her anymore. With wide, reverent eyes, she crawled toward the sleeping James, stretching a hand out longingly…

And then there was a thunderous crash and a blood curdling scream and everything disappeared in a cloud of dust and hay. Coughing, Lily squinted through the haze and realized that the entire upper story had collapsed; apparently, it couldn't handle all two pounds of Petunia's rail-thin figure.

"ARGH!"

"What the—?"

"Bloody hell!"

A string of assorted yelps and profanities echoed through the partially destroyed barn, and as the dust began to settle, Lily made out three dishevelled figures rising from the debris. Peter, in the corner, stumbled to his feet with much coughing and sputtering and almost ploughed right into a sleep-worn Remus, who was rubbing his back with a grimace. On the other side of the barn, Sirius emerged from a pile of rubble, looking confused and bleary-eyed. Not one of them seemed to have noticed Lily's presence—probably because they were all slightly delirious from sleep.

"Er… would you mind getting off?" A muffled voice wafted up from somewhere on the floor and Lily glanced down to see her sister lying on top of James, staring into his eyes with awe and clearly quite comfortable right where she was.

Any_ sane_ person would have been extremely embarrassed to be caught in such a position, apologized fifty times as they righted themselves, perhaps invented a hasty excuse before running away and hiding in a hole for the rest of their life. Petunia, however, was not sane. Lily had known this for a long time. And as her sister continued to stare at James as if he were the answer to all life's problems (and, more specifically, as if he hadn't just asked her to get off of him) she realized that nothing had changed on that front. Or maybe she'd just slipped into another episode of star-struck immobility. James' expression shifted from polite to uncomfortable and from there to downright disturbed, but Petunia still did not move.

"PETUNIA!" Lily barked, unable to bear it any longer. She felt like she was reprimanding an animal who'd managed to slip off its leash; at the sound of her raised voice, Petunia jumped a little in alarm and quickly leapt off of James, who inched away from her as soon as she was on her feet.

"Oh, James, I'm so sorry!" she burst out in a high-pitched, sickly sweet tone. "There was a spider coming down from the ceiling right over your head, and I only came up there to s-swat it away..." She trailed off as James yawned and stretched, practically shoving his well-muscled arms right in her face. Petunia gulped. "You... you aren't hurt, are you? I honestly didn't mean to cause any trouble..."

But James' attention was elsewhere. He let his arms fall down to his sides, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and then blinked, focusing on the doorway where Lily stood.

"Morning, Firecracker," he said with a huge grin. "And might I say, you look absolutely stunning."

Unintentionally, Lily glanced down at her clothes; in all her determination to drag Petunia back inside, she'd quite forgotten that she was still wearing her pyjamas, which—at this time of year—were composed only of a skimpy camisole and paisley pyjama shorts. She scowled and folded her arms across her chest.

Petunia, meanwhile, wore a look of deepest repulsion. "Uh, if by _stunning_ you mean _shocking_," she said scathingly, "then I agree." Apparently unaware of how dishevelled she looked after the collapsing-barn catastrophe, she brushed a bit more dirt off her pink-and-white get-up, blatantly showing off the effort she'd gone to in order to dress up for him. "I mean, come on—she hasn't even done her hair!" She flipped her own blonde locks over one shoulder. "And those horrid dark circles..." She batted her eyelashes and pouted, but it was no use—James simply refused to take his eyes off Lily.

"Um, hello?" said a new voice from the other side of the barn. It was Sirius, staring at them with wide, angry eyes. "Are you lot crazy? We just fell like... _ten_ feet; I think I broke my back. Is anybody going to explain themselves here?"

"That's hardly ten feet, Padfoot," replied Remus sceptically, regarding the ravaged holes in the wall where the brackets had been yanked out, and where the morning light was now filtering into the barn.

"It doesn't matter how bloody high it was! What the hell is going on?"

Lily rolled her eyes and spoke from the doorway, her voice tainted with annoyance. "Petunia's just _full_ of bright ideas this morning, that's what's going on. If you want a full explanation, she'll be happy to give it to you." She smiled tightly at her sister; Petunia glared in return before plastering back on her mask of sweet innocence and turning to the Marauders—or, well, mainly just James.

"Er... Just came by to see if you needed anything," she offered, giving him a giggle and a phony smile.

This got his attention, and for once, he actually kept his eyes on her. "Breakfast would be great," he said, flashing his trademark grin.

Petunia practically melted under his gaze. It was a wonder she managed to maintain any scrap of composure at all; her eyes glazed over, she expelled a giggly sort of sigh, and she stood staring at him for a lengthy moment before nodding hurriedly and straightening up.

Perhaps sensing that the Marauders had acquired an eager new servant (or, more appropriately, Lily thought, a puppet), Sirius tossed in his two cents from the corner. "Bacon!" he said. "Could we get some bacon? Oh, and something to drink, thanks."

"How about some actual pillows?" Remus suggested, rubbing his back with a half-smile.

"And a toilet!" Peter put in. This elicited several weird looks from the others, so he hastened to add: "What? I'm sick of... you know... doing it in the bush."

Grimacing, Lily tried not to think about where she'd stepped on the way over to the barn and instead decided to put her foot down. Just as Petunia nodded obediently, she stepped further into the barn and exclaimed angrily, "What do you think this is, a hotel service? Get your own bloody food!"

"_Lily_!" Petunia scolded, as if she'd just insulted the Pope or something. "How can you be so—"

"Of course it's not," said James, cutting her off and smirking. "No offense, but we've never stayed in a hotel _this_ bad." He gestured around at the broken walls, the dirty floors, the dust and hay scattered everywhere.

Lily let her jaw drop in indignation. "We didn't _ask_ you to stay here!" she exclaimed disbelievingly. "You might be used to people waiting on you hand and foot, but just because _you_ decided to start living in _our_ barn doesn't mean you can have every little thing you want delivered to the front door! We're not your slaves!"

Instead of looking sheepish or humbled—or any of the reactions Lily had hoped for—the Marauders gave a variety of irritating responses: Peter looked shocked, even a little frightened; Remus tried to hide a smile and kept glancing over at his friends, as if trying to gauge their reactions; James and Sirius, however, looked downright awestruck—and a wee bit amused, too—and stared at Lily as if she were some sort of species they'd never seen before.

"Forgive them," said Remus. "I don't think they've ever had a girl say no to them before."

Sirius scoffed (while James remained completely speechless). "Actually, Moony, I'm starting to doubt if this actually _is_ a girl. No offense, er... L... Lucy?"

"_Lily_," spat the accused, her incredulity growing with every passing second.

"And I'm Petunia!" piped up a squeaky voice from over by James. Nobody payed her any attention.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Come on, Petunia, let's get out of here before they start asking for ice cream and movies."

"Good idea," said James. "Why don't we add those to the list, hmm?"

"PETUNIA!" Lily repeated, eager to make an escape. Unfortunately, her sister still had her eyes glued to James and was smiling like an idiot, probably dreaming up all the platters of food and comfort items she was going to bring out here in order to impress him. "PETUNIA! Did you not hear me? Come _on!_"

"I don't reckon she's listening," said Sirius. "See that stupid look she's got? Classic symptom of Potter-itis. Might have to get her to a doctor."

"But not until _after_ you get us our ice cream," James corrected.

"Argh!" Lily had had enough. She stomped into the barn, grasped Petunia firmly around the elbow and began to yank her out of there. Even if she had protested it would have been easy enough for Lily to overpower her, but as it was, Petunia was still stuck in that dreamy state she seemed so prone to lately and, as a result, offered no resistance whatsoever.

Halfway out of the barn, though, she turned around, grasped the edge of the doorframe and stuck her head back inside. "I'll be back soon with everything you need! Promise!"

Adamant, Lily readjusted her grip on Petunia's arm. "No, you won't," she growled, and gave one final yank.

* * *

"Girls!"

The moment Lily and Petunia stepped through the door, they were swooped upon by a frantic Teresa Evans, who looked frighteningly harebrained as she hurried down the hallway toward them, pink bathrobe billowing out behind her.

"Where have you been?" she demanded, and then turned around to call: "Bob! I've found them!"

Mr. Evans appeared from the kitchen, clutching a mug of coffee and still sporting his favourite pyjamas – an old soccer shirt with _The Gryffindale Griffins_ printed across the front in faded lettering and a pair of flannel pyjama pants. When he saw the two of them, he sighed. "Girls, you gave us a right fright, running off like that."

Teresa, meanwhile, was fussing over her eldest daughter. "Goodness, Petunia, you're covered in hay!" she exclaimed, brushing the remains off of her sweater. "Where on Earth did you go?"

Lily and Petunia, for once in their lives, seemed to be on the same page. They exchanged a subtle, anxious glance—clearly both wondering what they should tell their parents.

"Er… We went for a walk," Lily finally offered, and then mentally kicked herself for not choosing a more believable story. Petunia, clearly thinking the same thing, stomped on her foot and glared at her murderously.

"A walk?" Teresa repeated doubtfully as Lily hissed in pain. "At six in the morning?"

"Together?" added Bob, scratching his head. "In your pyjamas?"

Lily squirmed for a moment under her parents' disbelieving gaze.

Luckily, Petunia was quick to take over. "It's never too early for exercise," she said brightly. "And everyone wears pyjamas when they go out walking now—it's the new fashion, mom."

"Right," said Teresa, clearly not quite convinced.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then:

"I'm starving!" Lily burst out, brushing past her father and escaping to the kitchen. "Anyone for pancakes?"

Twenty minutes later, Lily stood over a hot burner, armed with a spatula and churning out pancakes at a record pace. On the weekends, Teresa tended to slacken her healthy eating policy to the extent where they were allowed to have a proper Sunday breakfast, complete with low fat chicken bacon, scrambled eggs and pancakes (so long as they were made with whole wheat flour). Needless to say, Sunday was Lily's favourite day of the week. Humming lightly, she flipped off two new steaming creations onto a plate… and then frowned. The platter, which had held a moderate sized stack of pancakes only moments ago, was now empty. Not only that, but the two fresh ones disappeared almost as soon as they hit the plate, whisked away by a pale, bony hand.

Narrowing her eyes, Lily spun around and her suspicions were confirmed: Petunia stood behind her, shuffling the pancakes in question onto an enormous tray that was already laden with a mountain of scrambled eggs and about a pound of bacon.

"Surely you're not going to eat all that," Lily commented, regarding the heap of food in mild astonishment.

Petunia scoffed and rolled her eyes in a classic _don't you know anything? _expression. "As if I would eat any of this junk," she said, turning toward the fridge and pulling out a bottle of orange juice.

"Then why—" Lily stopped cold and dropped the spatula in annoyance. "Petunia, you'd better not be doing what I think you're doing."

Struggling to balance the plate and the juice, Petunia fetched a few forks from the silverware drawer. "We can't just let them go hungry, Lily," she whispered, cautious of the fact that their parents were in the next room. She walked slowly toward the back door and stopped, attempting to turn the handle without dropping anything.

"Petunia!" Lily hissed for the umpteenth time that day. "Do you even _have _a brain? If you give them food, they're going to stay here!"

"But I _want _them to stay here!"

"Well I don't!"

"Well that's too bad!" With that, she managed to push the door open. Unfortunately, their rising voices had drawn the attention of Teresa, who poked her head through the doorway. Her jaw dropped when she saw Petunia exiting the house with enough food to feed a small army.

"Petunia, what in heaven's name are you doing?" she asked faintly, and Lily smirked a little as she watched her sister grasping for an excuse. With desperate eyes, Petunia glanced at the platter of food and then back at her mother.

At that moment, a meowing noise broke the silence as Harry came trotting up to Petunia, rubbing against her legs and gazing longingly at the food. Petunia's eyes lit up with inspiration and she finally managed to squeak: "Just feeding the cat!" before letting the door slam closed.

Mouth open, Teresa turned to Lily. "Honey, what's your sister doing?" she asked, sounding slightly fearful.

Lily gave her mother a wry smile and flipped a pancake expertly. "Trust me, mom—you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

* * *

By eight o'clock that evening, Lily's patience was wearing very, very thin. She'd spent the entire day trying to convince herself that there wasn't a world-famous rock band hiding in her barn, and that, even if there was, they weren't going to stick around and make her summer Hell. Just one more day, she kept telling herself, and she'd be off to the family lake house, where the Marauders were out of sight and out of mind—where all that mattered was the sun, the water, the fresh air, and possibly a good book or two.

Petunia, however, made it difficult for this mantra to have any effect. She buzzed around the house all day, making pathetic excuses to go out the barn, carrying things back and forth like a maid (and then dumping all the actual clean-up work on Lily), and, when she couldn't possibly justify making a visit to her beloved Marauders, sitting inside and blaring their songs at full volume so that they could probably be heard even from the very back of the field. This, Lily realized after a while, was undoubtedly her intention.

Even though they were at least a hundred and fifty metres away, the Marauders were a constant presence, grating at Lily's nerves until she could bear it no longer. So it was a welcome reprieve when the sun went down and she indulged in a bit of normalcy, sitting down in front of the TV with her father for their traditional Sunday evening relaxation time. (Petunia and Teresa, meanwhile, were on the treadmills downstairs.)

Bob Evans sat reclined in his armchair with the remote in one hand as he browsed the channels. Lily, lounged on the adjacent sofa, gazed at the screen with tired eyes, suddenly unsure whether or not she would be able to stay awake for any length of time; she had, after all, been woken much too early this morning, and all this Marauder business had taken a toll on her energy level.

"What d'you want to watch, Lilybear?" said Bob, and held out the remote for her to take. "Doesn't look like there's much on tonight."

Lily took the remote and flipped absentmindedly through a couple more channels, finally settling on a cop drama she'd seen a few times before. If anything could hold her attention tonight, she thought, an hour of excessive blood, gore, and theatrics certainly would. Much to her satisfaction, she managed to lose herself in the far-too-complex plot of the show fairly quickly, sharing her confusion and scepticism with her father every now and then, laughing out loud whenever something completely unbelievable happened, and generally forgetting everything that had been on her mind up until now.

And then, during a commercial break—when her dad had gone to fetch a bag of chips—a face popped up at the window, scaring the living daylight out of her.

Startled, Lily jumped up from her horizontal position on the couch and scrambled onto her knees, moving as far away from the window as she could manage and preparing to run far away if need be. And then she noticed who it was, and her heart rate settled—but only a little.

James Potter.

She thought she spotted one of the others a little way behind him, too.

What did they think they were_ doing_ up here at the house? Taking over the barn was one thing, but wandering up to the Evans' back deck, where they could easily be spotted by Bob or Teresa? That was entirely another. Not only would it get Lily and Petunia into trouble if their parents found out they had something to do with these mysterious boys lurking around the property, it was also _incredibly_ stupid of the Marauders to risk exposure like this when they were so adamant about not being seen. Lily's expression mirrored these thoughts as she stared out the window in horror, but all James did was smile and offer a cheery wave.

"_What are you _doing?" she mouthed, aghast.

James lifted a hand to his mouth and tipped his head back as if drinking from an imaginary cup. After assuming his regular stance once again, he gave her two thumbs up and nodded. Evidently, this wasn't just a stupid, pointless charade—it was another request, and she was expected to fulfil it ASAP.

Lily couldn't believe her eyes. She'd thought she'd seen the worst of his immaturity, but this definitely took the cake. "_NO!_" she hissed, shaking her head and using her hand to make I-will-kill-you movements against her throat. "_Go away!_"

James pouted and begged, whimpering like a lost puppy. She was obviously supposed to take pity on him (or maybe even find this facade attractive in some way), but as Lily gawped at him incredulously, all she felt was rising anger.

"_Go away!_" she repeated, using her arms to shoo him off. "_Get out of here or somebody will see you!"_

As if to prove her point, footsteps suddenly became audible from outside the lounge room—and, not two seconds later, Bob appeared in the doorway, chips in hand. Lily turned quickly to look at him in alarm, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw James duck down out of sight.

"Were you talking to someone?" her father asked, looking around the room as if somebody else might suddenly have joined her in front of the television.

"No," she lied, and wracked her brain for an excuse. "It was just a... er... fly... buzzing around my head. Stupid thing wouldn't leave me alone."

"Ah." Bob smiled knowingly. "Your mother won't be too happy if somebody's left a screen open again... but I s'pose she doesn't have to know, does she?" He winked conspiratorially, and Lily responded with a half-hearted smile. To be perfectly honest, she didn't really care if the screens were keeping the bugs out or not—just as long as they kept the Marauders out, she'd be fine.

Once the cop show was over, Bob ruffled Lily's hair and gave her a kiss on the head before retiring to his office, claiming he had some work to finish up. The TV had been turned off, but Lily remained on the couch, content to bask in the state of half-awareness she'd been able to assume by sinking into the cushions of the couch. Pretty soon her eyelids began to droop, and she was just dozing off into blissful oblivion when suddenly, there was a knock on the window. Her eyes shot open and then narrowed immediately when she realized who it undoubtedly was, and she raised herself into a sitting position to see what he was up to _this _time.

There he was again, making those "thirsty" gestures with his hand, much more urgently now; behind him, Sirius performed the other half of the act, with the puppy dog eyes and the whining.

That was it. Without even bothering to respond, Lily stormed out of the lounge room and down the hall. She fetched a bucket from the laundry room, filled it up with water at the sink and hauled it to the back door, which she threw open so vigorously that it rebounded off the wall with a _bang_. With only one purpose in mind, she rounded the corner to the back deck—and there were James and Sirius, hovering by the window, laughing as they (presumably) awaited her return to the lounge room. When they saw her walking toward them, their eyes brightened considerably.

"Hey, Firecracker," said James, putting on that stupid grin again. "Finally given in to—"

He seemed to notice the livid expression on her face—and the bucket in her hands—when she was only a couple of steps away, and by this time, it was too late; Lily put one hand on the bottom of the pail and one on the rim and drew it back, ready to fire. She watched James' expression as it changed from one of conceit to one of horror—and then the water hit him full in the face, and he stumbled backward.

Sirius laughed out loud. Grimacing, James attempted to wipe the water off his face, but his attempts were futile—his hair was so sopping that water continued to pour out of it into his eyes and down his cheeks, making it practically impossible for him to regain his senses. By the time he finally righted himself, Lily had turned around and was on her way back into the house.

Unfortunately, she met Petunia halfway.

She was dressed in her workout clothes (and yet mysteriously didn't have a drop of sweat on her body) and smiled gleefully as she carried a pitcher of lemonade and several tall glasses on a tray. As soon as she caught sight of Lily, the smile disappeared—and as soon as she saw what had happened to her beloved James, her entire face rearranged itself into an expression of horror.

"Lily, what have you _done?_" she shrieked, rushing forward with her offering and stopping in front of the sodden James, who was now looking vaguely amused as he tried to wring the water out of his shirt. "What happened, James? What did she do to you?" She sounded like a mother fussing over her child; the overall effect was rather disturbing.

Lily was not in the mood for a lengthy argument, so she simply shrugged and said, while trying to maintain a tone of perfect serenity, "I gave him a drink, just like he asked."

After taking a moment to shoot her sister a death glare, Petunia shoved the lemonade insistently in James' face. "I am _so_ sorry about her, James," she said in an incredibly suck-up-ish tone. "I don't know why she feels the need to act like such a _freak _all the time. Here, have some lemonade—I made it specially for you." She pushed the tray even closer to him, and Lily snorted quietly from where she stood, because it was _her_ who had made the lemonade earlier that day, and it had in no way been made "specially" for James Potter.

Petunia waited for him to respond, but all he did was chuckle and shake his head, continuing his attempts to shake the water out of his clothing.

Sirius took this opportunity to make himself heard. "Um, over here, Twiggie," he called. "I'll have some lemonade, thanks."

Pointedly ignoring him, Petunia lowered the tray and looked worriedly at James. "Don't you want any?"

At this, James laughed and looked around Petunia to meet Lily's eyes. "Actually, I liked _that_ drink a lot better," he said, and winked. Petunia gasped.

Scowling, Lily turned on her heel and headed back into the house without a word. She didn't have the energy to fight back right now, and besides, it would be unwise to encourage him. At this point, she decided, the best thing to do was to stay out of it all—let Petunia continue to embarrass herself, and let the Marauders have their fun until they got bored of hanging around Gryffindale and fled back to their cosy little rock star lives.

And besides, even if they had no intention of leaving, it wouldn't matter come tomorrow, for the Evanses were off on vacation, and as long as Petunia didn't do anything to mess it all up, Lily would have her escape.

_Just one more day_, she told herself for the billionth time as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. _Just one more day, and this will all be over_.

* * *

**A/N:** First of all, we'd like to say...

WOW.

We were blown away by the response we got to Chapter One. TWENTY-NINE REVIEWS? SERIOUSLY? (No, Remusly...) You guys are AWESOME. On that note, we made an effort to reply to each one, but we haven't quite finished that process, so if you haven't yet received a reply, don't feel rejected! We love you all! (Except for that loser with the green hair and the horn sticking out of their head... Yeah, not you.)

Second of all...

WE SUCK.

See, here's the story behind our lousy update...

Once upon a time, there were two girls. They decided to write a story. So they planned it all out, wrote the first chapter, and then were kidnapped by evil man-eating hamsters... or so it seemed. In reality, this is what happened:

LIZ: OMG! Twenty-nine reviews!  
SAM: (gasps) We must write Chapter Two!  
LIZ: Okay!  
[Two minutes later...]  
SAM: (whines) This is HARD...  
LIZ: ...Wanna go get ice cream?  
SAM: Okay!  
[A week later...]  
LIZ: Hey, weren't we supposed to update on Friday?  
SAM: Oh yeah...  
LIZ: Let's go through what we have so far.  
SAM: (reads in horrible fake British accent) "Lily did a double take. No, it couldn't be them! Not HERE! Not—"  
LIZ: AHH, my ears!  
SAM: (continues to read)  
LIZ: How are we supposed to do this when you're such a demented maniac? I'm going to tell the reviewers that this is why we couldn't update!  
[Another week goes by...]  
SAM: Okay, we _really_ have to update.  
LIZ: But these scenes are too hard to write!  
[Hours are spent slaving away over stupid scenes that refuse to make any sense whatsoever, let alone come together to form a cohesive chapter.]  
[234516278390423234234 years later...]  
LIZ: FINALLY! It's done!  
SAM: But now we have to think of an author's note...

So yeah, in a nutshell, that's it. We're sorry for being so pathetically slow, but honestly, this chapter was ridiculously hard to write. We're also sorry if it didn't live up to your expectations, but we promise, it's going to get better from here. (We swears it! And no, for the billionth time, we're not Gollum! PRECIOUSSSSS... -cough-) From now on, we plan to update every Friday, even if the next few chapters prove to be just as evil as this one. So keep an eye out! (Like, literally pull one of your eyes out and leave it stuck to your computer screen. That should do the trick.)

In any case, we hope you enjoyed the chapter! Reviews are much appreciated, and it would be great if you could tell us what you liked, what you thought was lacking, what you thought was just plain stupid—whatever it is, we'd love to hear it!

Sinseerlie,

Liz and Sam  
(_Seven Scribbles_)

P.S. One thing we forgot to mention: A lot of people seem to be under the impression that we are actually using the plot from the movie Starstruck for this story. This is completely untrue. While we originally got the inspiration for this story from Starstruck (the movie), we have developed a plot completely of our own invention. In fact, the only similarities between the two are in Petunia's obsession with James and Lily's hatred of him. Oh, and the title, of course. Glad we got that cleared up. :)


	3. Vulpecula

**Disclaimer:** All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. In addition, they are the sole property of J.K. Rowling, and are utilized here in a non-profit capacity. Any opinions expressed herein are not necessarily those of the authors. Viewer discretion is advised. Batteries not included.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Vulpecula

* * *

When Monday morning finally dawned, it brought with it a canvas of clear blue sky and plenty of hot sunlight to shine down upon the Evanses' vacation preparations. A sense of cheerfulness pervaded the family as they packed up their car that morning, due to both the perfect summer weather and the rest and relaxation that awaited them at the lake house.

Lily in particular had always looked forward to these trips; she loved the outdoors, and their cottage location on the lake was full of fun things to do—tubing, waterskiing, hiking, volleyball... Lily liked to do a little bit of everything while she was there, and on the odd day that she felt like being lazy, there was always a nice tranquil spot on the water's edge to sit down and unwind. Right now, there was nothing she wanted more than to be away from this place, out on the water with her father or lazing around on the shore with a book . Normally, the best thing about the lake house was that Petunia preferred to stay inside and "protect her skin", meaning that they didn't see a lot of each other while they were there. This year, however, its main draw was the fact that it was miles away from the Marauders.

The only one who didn't seem to share in the enthusiasm was Petunia, who had been throwing tantrums all morning. While Lily couldn't have been happier at the prospect of nine whole Marauder-free days, her sister had so far spent the entire day devising new excuses not to accompany her family on the trip, and they were growing more and more ridiculous as the morning wore on.

Lily had just stepped out the front door holding Harry's empty carrier when she heard a dull thud and a squeal of "Oh no!" from in front of her. Petunia, who was standing near the car, had apparently dropped her suitcase onto the pavement, and was looking down at it with an exaggeratedly horrified expression.

"What's the matter, Tuney?" Bob queried, removing his head from the trunk of the car and ceasing his loading actions to stare at her. When he didn't spot anything out of place except for her fallen luggage, he looked mildly confused.

"I dropped my suitcase," Petunia whined, staring at it sadly. "I guess we can't go."

While Lily scoffed loudly from where she stood, surveying the scenario in disgust, Bob merely chuckled. "Nice try, Tuney, but you're not getting out of this one," he told her, grabbing her bag from the ground and hoisting it into the car. "Besides, I don't see why you're so down about this trip. I thought you liked the lake house." Petunia, whose face had morphed into an expression of utmost sourness, did not respond.

"Hey dad," Lily called, coming down the stairs from the porch. "Have you seen Harry? I can't find him anywhere."

Bob looked thoughtful and scratched his chin. "Can't say I have, Lilybear. Did you check out back?"

"Yeah," said Lily, her forehead creasing in thought. "His food from this morning is gone, but he wasn't in the shed, or in that bush he likes..." She trailed off and set the carrier down at the bottom of the steps before going to join Bob at the back of the car. "He's probably just hiding; I guess I'll have another look around later. Do you need a ha—"

"Oh no!"

She stopped in her tracks at the sound of Petunia's panic-stricken voice, rolled her eyes and grudgingly turned to face her sister, wondering what excuses she could possibly have left. "What is it _now_, Petunia?"

Petunia pointed at the empty cat carrier, evidently trying to look distraught. "We can't leave if Harry's missing! What if he gets lost? Or gets attacked by something? What if—"

"Oh, shut it, Petunia. You've never cared about Harry before in your life." Fed up with Petunia's antics, she turned her attention elsewhere. "Need a hand, Dad?"

Together, they fitted everything snugly into the trunk in record time, while Petunia stood back and continued to tell them that there was no way they were going to get everything in, and that, if she needed to, she'd oh-so-generously stay home and sacrifice her seat for some extra baggage space. Bob laughed to himself and Lily simply ignored her, and two of them managed to cram everything into the modest space, even leaving some room for the things they hadn't yet packed.

"Looks like you can come after all, Petunia!" Lily announced gleefully, clapping her hands together and—when her father's back was turned—sticking her tongue out at Petunia, who made a face in return and walked off in a huff.

"Great work, Lilybear," Bob said affectionately. "Now, why don't you—"

"BOB!"

Mr. Evans was cut off when a loud, murderous yell erupted from the house. Lily spun around to see her mother standing in the doorway, holding a packet of sherbet lemons in her hand and trembling in fury.

Bob shot Lily a fearful look and then turned back to his wife hesitantly. "Er, yes dear?" he replied in a meek voice.

"Would you care to tell me what _these_ were doing at the back of the cupboard?" She raised the bag threateningly and narrowed her eyes.

Lily and her father exchanged another look. They had been caught out—from experience, however, they knew that the best thing to do was to play it innocent until the last possible moment. That way, some of Teresa's anger would have dissipated by the time she actually got them to confess to anything straight out.

"Absolutely no idea, honey," said Bob, flashing her a huge smile. Lily mimicked it, though she realized after a moment that the effect must have been completely ridiculous.

Teresa's eyes narrowed further yet. "Oh, really? And you wouldn't happen to know anything about the pile of crisps, biscuits and _chocolate_ I found them buried in?"

_Oh, shit_, thought Lily. She'd really found it all—and, knowing Teresa Evans, there was absolutely no doubt that she would confiscate everything down to the last crumb. Lily might have considered attempting a salvage mission (as she and her father had done on many occasions before), but her mother had become very experienced at this process, and by this point there was no hope of recovering even a scrap of her beloved junk food. Teresa would probably chuck it in an incinerator or something. It pained Lily to think about it: all that deliciousness, burnt to a cinder in a dark vault somewhere out of her reach...

Bob, meanwhile, shrugged pathetically in response while obviously still holding to the belief that smiling was the best way to get out of trouble. He should have known better; Teresa knew that smile too well, and after taking a calming breath, she lowered the bag of sherbet lemons and shook her head. "I don't know what to do with you, Robert. You swore last time that this wouldn't happen again."

Bob hung his head in shame, still smiling slightly as he half-turned to wink at Lily. The overall effect was quite amusing—like a dog with its tail between its legs, her father mumbled, "I'm sorry, honey," and shuffled submissively toward the front door, which his wife held open for him.

"Does this mean we can't go on vacation?" Petunia called out hopefully after them, but merited no response. When the door slammed close, she let out a loud, frustrated "Argh!"

Lily tried to smother a laugh as she regarded her sister's antics. "Petunia," she said, shaking her head, "why is it such a big deal? You love the lake house, remember?"

"I wouldn't expect _you _to understand," Petunia responded, crossing her arms and refusing to say any more. Her mouth twitched a couple of times, however, and it was clear that she was waiting for Lily to beg her to elaborate.

Rolling her eyes slightly, Lily figured she might as well play along with her sister's twisted mind game. "What is it?" she asked, sounding less than enthusiastic.

Those three words were all it took—in a split second, the floodgates fell open and Petunia's hysterics were unleashed. "Don't you see, Lily?" she burst out, sounding quite demented. "This is my one chance with James! What if they're gone by the time we get back? What if I never see him again?"

Lily just laughed at that, as cruel as it seemed to respond in such a way to her sister's desperation. "Oh, please," she said, "you'll see him plenty. There's no escaping them, remember? They're on TV, on the radio, on posters... Haven't you got like twenty billion James Potters in your bedroom?"

"But it's not the _same!_" Petunia wailed, throwing her arms out in an overdramatic display of exasperation. "Lily, you don't understand what it was like for me, when I saw him in that barn. I'd been _dying_ to meet him for years, and then _poof_! There he was! It was like a dream, okay? That sort of thing doesn't happen every day, and if we leave now, I'll never get that chance again. I'll never get the chance to prove... to prove that we're meant to be together."

By the time she'd finished her overemotional spiel, she had tears in her eyes. This was a little much for Lily, but after hearing all that, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to be obsessed with something to the extent that Petunia was obsessed with James—to be presented with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and then have it ripped away, just because nobody else could see it from the same perspective. Granted, Petunia's perspective was a _little_ twisted, but as Lily thought about it, she came to a reluctant conclusion: If she were the one to burst Petunia's bubble at this stage, the guilt would likely eat away at her all summer. And she simply couldn't bear to have her vacation ruined by something as petty as Petunia's boy band dramas.

"Whatever," she finally said. "I don't care if you stay behind. If you can convince Mom and Dad, I won't stop you—hell, it'll be a better trip without you there. But if you _dare_ say a word to those idiot Marauders before I have the chance to get out of here, I swear, I will burn every poster of James you own."

Drawing in a sharp, frightened breath through her nostrils, Petunia nodded quickly. "Right," she agreed. "I won't tell them." She paused, perhaps unsure whether or not it would be appropriate to speak these next words. "Well, er, tha...t's a relief," she said, seemingly changing her mind halfway through an awkward "thank you".

Not offended in the slightest, Lily rolled her eyes and walked away. After all, a display of gratitude from Petunia would simply be too weird to handle.

* * *

After a morning of hard work, nearly everything was loaded into the trunk and ready to go—duffel bags, lawn chairs, towels, crates full of sporting equipment—and the family's small motorboat had been pulled out of the garage and hitched up to the back of the van. Departure was imminent.

It was for this reason that Lily found herself in a particularly good mood as she hauled the cooler out to the car; despite the fact that it was killing her arms, she hummed a merry tune to herself as she descended the front steps, confident at this point that nothing was going to come between her and a good old fashioned family holiday.

With one final lift and an accompanying grunt, Lily hoisted the cooler into the back of the car. She then stepped away and shook out her sore arms, regarding the jam-packed trunk with satisfaction.

Smiling, she turned around and headed back to the front door—but before she could even get past the garage, something came out of nowhere and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, yanking her backward with staggering force.

Next thing Lily knew, she was around the corner in the vine-coated alleyway between the fence and the house, crammed into the tiny area and face to face with James Potter.

But it wasn't the James Potter she was used to, with the arrogant eye-twinkle and the crooked smile. This James was staring down at her with a perfectly serious expression, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. He let his hand drop from the back of her shirt, but she still felt trapped under his gaze as he furrowed his brow and regarded her with suspicion.

"What is _this_?" he demanded a little too loudly, pointing a rigid arm in the direction of the car; Lily's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Lily did a quick survey of the area to make sure nobody was in earshot before turning back to him. "What does it look like?" she whispered darkly, and crossed her arms. "We're going on vacation—not that it's any of your bloody business, Potter."

His eyes widened a little, and then he fiercely shook his head. "No. Absolutely no way. You are _not_ leaving."

As per usual, his attitude got her temper going and her voice began to rise. "_What?_ You think I'm going to take orders from you? Refusing to leave yourselves is bad enough, but now you have to go and—"

"What are we supposed to _do_ if you're gone?" he cut in, a hint of desperation in his voice.

Lily scoffed. "Oh, that's right, I forgot. You'll die if you don't have a couple of slaves around, won't you?"

"That's not what I meant," he growled, shaking his head impatiently. "We need you to be here so that—"

"So that you can stalk us? Yeah, you've already made that perfectly clear, thanks."

Looking frustrated, James replied, "It's not like that, okay? You don't understand."

"No, I don't," Lily snapped. "But if you think you can just show up here and ruin my summer, you've got another thing coming."

His eyes blazed. "Ruin _your_ summer?" he repeated incredulously. "Do you think we're running from little pink bunny rabbits here? If we get caught, really, _really_ bad things could happen. It's not like DeMort is just going to—" He stopped abruptly, and it was clear from the look on his face that he'd said too much already. He sighed heavily. "Look, I can't tell you everything, but you have to believe me—this is more serious than you think."

It was lucky for him that he'd thrown in some valid reasoning, because if he hadn't mentioned Valentino DeMort, Lily _wouldn't_ have believed him. In all honesty, she still thought this whole band-on-the-run thing was taking things a little far, but she'd researched DeMort quite extensively for a school project, and she knew he wasn't wrong about any of that. Still, she really didn't want to be involved in all this, and she felt it was unfair of James and the Marauders to be imposing on her like they were. And she certainly didn't like their attitudes one bit.

"Maybe it is," she said a little more softly, while continuing to glare icily at him, "but I didn't _ask_ for you to come here."

James stepped back a few inches, the fire in his eyes subsiding to some degree. He sighed. "I know. And trust me—if we had another option, we wouldn'tbe here."

There was a moment of silence. Lily caught an overpowering whiff of James' cologne—an expensive-smelling fusion of cinnamon and something unidentifiable—and suddenly became very aware of just how closely they were squeezed in. She tried to take a step backward, but her heel caught the stone wall and she ended up stumbling slightly, barely shifting from her original, claustrophobic position. Unfortunately, her action was quite obvious and James, clearly aware of her intent, smirked. The previously dying fire inside Lily lit up again like a tank of gasoline at the infuriating expression.

"Are we done here?" she snapped, pushing her hair behind her ears and making to leave the alleyway.

James' hand shot out at lightning speed and grabbed onto her upper arm, tugging her back. "No, we're not," he told her, quite seriously. "Not until you give me your word that you won't be leaving."

"What? No!" Lily exploded. "Didn't we already go through this?"

Smirking, James responded with, "Sure, but I didn't get the answer I wanted. Say you're not leaving, and I'll let go." He tightened his grip around her wimpy bicep, making it clear that he was serious about this.

"NO!" said Lily stubbornly. "I've been looking forward to this trip for weeks, and I'm going, and that's that! There's nothing you can do to change my mind."

"Oh, really?" James cocked his head to one side, adopting a downright evil expression as they stared into one another's eyes, both of them unrelenting. "And if you leave, what's stopping us from coming inside and trashing the house, huh? Sirius would be happy to have a comfy bed to sleep in—and I hear Wormtail's just been _dying_ to use a proper toilet..."

Lily cringed at the mental image. "You disgust me," she spat, but before she could go on, she heard rapid footfalls coming from the direction of the front door. Somebody was coming.

"Get out of here!" she hissed at James, keeping the volume to a minimum but making frantic arm gestures to instil a sense of urgency. He opened his mouth to protest, but she interrupted him. "Save it! Someone's coming—quick, you idiot, or you'll be seen!"

That got him moving, but not without giving her a warning glance by way of farewell. Lily heaved a tired sigh and began to plan a discrete escape from this odd location that wouldn't rouse suspicion, but before she could even step out from behind the wall, a figure appeared out of nowhere in front of her. She was so frightened at first that she gave a tiny cry of alarm and jumped back—but then she realized that the figure was stick thin and dressed in pink, and she knew she was relatively safe. Never before had she been so relieved to see her sister.

"Petunia, what are you doing?" she asked breathlessly, her eyes still wide from the sudden shock. "You scared the hell out of me!"

Petunia, apparently, didn't sympathize (but there was no surprise there). She stood square in front of Lily with an expression even colder than usual, her arms folded determinedly, her jaw stuck out in annoyance. Clearly, she had a bone to pick with her sister.

"Was that _James_ you were talking to just then?" she said in a frosty voice, her eyes growing more slit-like with every syllable.

Oh dear God, she was actually _jealous_.

"If you call being manhandled and threatened 'talking', then yes it was," Lily snapped, feeling strangely irritated. She rubbed her shoulder, upon which his grip still lingered, and growled, "Ruddy git thinks he can force us to stay."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them; Petunia's eyes lit up with a disturbing sort of glee and she gasped so powerfully that a fly hovering nearby was almost sucked right into her wide open mouth. "_He does?_" she squealed, and then stared into the distance with a breathy expression of: "I knew he didn't want us to be apart."

Apparently, Petunia's delusion had reached new heights—if such a thing were even possible. She'd been so quickly swept off into one of her typical James Potter daydreams that she hadn't even reacted to Lily calling him a "ruddy git"—and now Lily could practically see her mind working, churning out unrealistic visions of the future at record speed. Irritated, Lily was hit with an irrepressible urge to smack Petunia in the face. She decided, however, that this would be a little much, and opted for smacking herself instead.

"Petunia, you are unbelievable," she said dully, shaking her head. "You _really_ don't see what they're trying to do here, do you?"

Miraculously, despite how dazed she appeared to be, Petunia seemed to have actually heard her. "What do you mean?" she said airily, continuing to stare down the alleyway with vacant eyes. "They're not trying to do anything—they just want us to stay with them..."

"NO, PETUNIA!" Lily shouted, pushed beyond her limits now. "Snap out of it! They only want us nearby because they reckon we're going to go off and blab to everyone we know about having met them—but if we stay here, they have complete control. Do you _want_ that?"

She knew it was a stupid question, so she wasn't surprised at all when Petunia smiled vaguely and sighed, "Yes..."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "You need help," she muttered, her tone dark.

Affronted, Petunia crossed her arms. "And _you _need to stop being so insensitive!" she shot back. "I overheard them talking yesterday when I went out to bring them breakfast, Lily—whatever trouble they're in, it's really serious."

Lily let out a snort of disbelief. "Yeah, I'm sure." She rolled her eyes and dropped the sarcasm. "Petunia, one of them is _called _Sirius and they _still _don't know the meaning of the word. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's just—"

"You are _so_ judgmental!" Petunia exclaimed in exasperation, and Lily was shocked into silence mostly because she'd been completely unaware that Petunia's vocabulary even extended that far. "What have they ever done to you? I think you need to give them a chance. They say we need to stay here so that their secret doesn't get out, and I believe them."

"Yeah, but you _know_ I wouldn't tell anybody. I don't give a damn about meeting the Marauders."

"Yes," said Petunia earnestly, "but _they_ don't know that for sure. They can't really trust you, can they?"

"Why not?" Lily burst out, aggravated once again. "I've done more than enough to show what I think of them—if I did anymore, they'd beg me to get the hell out of here. So why can't I just _go_ and leave you here to deal with them?"

"Because," said Petunia simply, "you need to give them a chance to get to know you first—to learn to trust you—and then maybe they'll understand."

All of a sudden, Petunia seemed amazingly calm about the whole situation. She kept a straight face, her stature was relaxed, and her eyes weren't filled with hatred or resentment or any of the other emotions she usually had on display when they argued like this. Lily suspected, however, that this was merely an act she was putting on in order to be persuasive. Why Petunia wanted Lily to stick around and take part in her happy little Marauder party, she had no idea—maybe she wanted somebody to keep cooking the meals that she took credit for, or somebody to stand there and make her look good. Whatever it was, she had to have _some_ ulterior motive. This was Petunia, after all.

The thing was, though Lily recognized all this, she felt herself slowly caving in. Not because her sister was that convincing, but because she was beginning to realize that she had no choice. Leaving Petunia behind simply wouldn't cut it. If she was left in control, things would get very out of hand; she would, no doubt, give the Marauders free run of the house, continue to treat them like royalty, let them get their dirty hands all over whatever they wanted—and by the time Lily and her parents got home, they'd have completely taken over the place. The Evanses would probably be left homeless.

"Please," Petunia begged childishly, perhaps sensing that Lily was close to being convinced, "remember what I said before—I can't lose this opportunity with James..."

Yes, she remembered. She also remembered what had swayed her in the end; _guilt!_ her subconscious screamed at her over and over. _She won't ever let you forget about this if you ruin it for her!_

Lily let out a long breath and finally folded her arms. "I'm not saying I agree with this," she said guardedly, raising her head to regard her sister with suspicion (despite the negativity of the comment, Petunia's face lit up with anticipation), "but even if I _did_ say yes, there's no way in hell Mom and Dad are going to let us both stay home. How exactly do you suggest we would pull this off?"

Petunia was momentarily stumped, and stood there biting her lip for a second or two. Then, she raised her head, and her eyes were alight with inspiration—a very sly, very _evil_ sort of inspiration...

* * *

"I told you, I'm sick," Lily said to her parents for the umpteenth time. She tried not to let her voice betray the annoyance that was seeping through every inch of her body, but she was sure nonetheless that her displeasure was evident. Her parents looked uncertain as they regarded her; she was tucked up neatly in bed (courtesy of a very chipper Petunia) with her comforter drawn right up to her chin and a generous amount of blush applied to her cheeks for added effect. Still, Bob and Teresa looked confused at the rapid onset of this mysterious illness, and shared a concerned look before turning to face her again.

"I don't understand, Lily," said her mother. "You were perfectly fine fifteen minutes ago. Are you sure it's quite so serious?"

Feeling very much like punching Petunia in the face, Lily gave a mournful nod. "I feel horrible," she moaned. "I think I have a fever, too."

At this, Petunia rushed forward and pressed a hand against Lily's forehead, letting out an exaggerated gasp. "It's boiling hot!" she cried dramatically. When Teresa made a move to feel for herself, Petunia swatted her hand out of the way with a cry of, "No, mom! You might get burnt!"

"Petunia," Teresa scolded, confused. She turned back toward to younger daughter with a worried expression. "Lily, dear, I think we should take you to the hospital—you might have that virus that's going around…"

"NO!" Petunia's shout was so loud that Lily actually raised her hands to cover her ears. "She's fine—I mean, she's not _fine_, but she's fine. No hospital necessary!"

Cringing at Petunia's garbled outburst, Lily addressed her parents with the most convincing half-smile she could muster up. "I'll be alright, honestly. I think I just need to get some rest."

"You could rest in the car," suggested Bob, who'd been quite put out when Petunia had first told them of Lily's sudden (and completely fake) ailment. It broke Lily's heart to hear her father sounding so hopeful; typically, they did everything together at the lake house—but this year, he'd be boating and fishing and enjoying the great outdoors all on his own.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I... I don't think I can go," said Lily, struggling against the lump in her throat. Ironically, this was exactly what she needed to make the act more convincing—her voice sounded weak and strangled, her cheeks became warm with emotion, and both her parents looked at her with renewed expressions of concern.

"It's not as if we can just leave you here...," said Teresa worriedly, looking torn. In a split second, however, she seemed to make up her mind, and shook her head resolutely. "No, no, that's it—we'll all have to stay home," she said.

"NO!" shouted Petunia and Lily at the same time. They looked at one another with identical expressions of wide-eyed anxiety, and Petunia took it upon herself to rectify the situation.

"Er, I mean...," she began hesitantly, "you should..." She trailed off again. Embarrassed by her sister's acting skills, Lily decided to step in (figuratively speaking, of course, since she could barely move under the mounds of blankets Petunia had thrown on top of her).

"Dad got the week off work, didn't he?" Lily asked in a sad, quiet voice. "You two should really go. We need to get some use out of the lake house this summer anyway." She offered another miserable smile, but she could barely get her lips to curve upward at all. This was all too depressing—she was going to kill Petunia later.

This line of reasoning seemed to do the trick; Lily's mother and father looked indecisively at one another, but when Teresa spoke again, it sounded like she'd made up her mind to some degree.

"I suppose you're right," she said with a sigh. "We really shouldn't leave the lake house sitting empty for another year." She shook her head sombrely, and then set to fussing about her younger daughter, tucking in her blankets, straightening the items on her nightstand. "But are you sure you'll be alright here? It seems horrible to leave you all alone, and when you're sick like this... I just don't—"

"I'll stay with her!" Petunia burst in eagerly. It was obvious that she'd been anticipating this part of the plan impatiently right from the beginning; she had the look of an actress who'd been given a single line in a production and then delivered it a moment too soon, and with far too much enthusiasm. Lily would have liked to slap her for being so bloody tactless. Then again, her anger toward Petunia was so exacerbated right now that she would have slapped her for just about anything.

"Er... Are you sure, Tuney?" Bob asked doubtfully. "You'd really rather stay here and mind your sister than—"

"Of course!" said Petunia, demonstrating her lack of judgment once again. "I mean, I'd be more than happy to stay back. Somebody needs to look after her—look how sick she is!"

_Not helping_, Lily thought, gritting her teeth. But from the looks of it, it didn't matter that she completely lacked any credibility whatsoever; Bob and Teresa were actually considering her offer.

"Alright, Tuney," said Bob at last, "I guess you've finally got your excuse."

"But we'll be calling to check in whenever we can," said Teresa sternly, "so Petunia, you'd better make sure you look after your sister properly—I'll have no wild parties or anything of the sort..."

It took at least ten more minutes for Lily and Petunia (well, mostly Lily) to assure Teresa that everything would be alright, but finally, she gave in to practicality and decided that they'd better get away while they still had enough sunlight left for the trip. She left a whole stack of written instructions detailing what to do in an emergency, how to order healthy take-out dinners, and several other bits of information, most of which were completely unnecessary. She topped up the spare change canister, brought Lily a fresh glass of water, and lectured Petunia (who, by this point, was practically jumping for joy) for a further fifteen minutes before her husband managed to drag her out the door.

"Bye, Lilybear," said Bob as he headed out of her bedroom, after he'd kissed both his daughters goodbye. "Don't stay sick too long, eh?"

Lily tried to smile, but it was becoming more and more difficult to feign any hint of cheerfulness now that she was watching her dad walk out the door with that dejected look on his face. "I'll try," she said. "Have a good time, Dad."

Petunia escorted their parents down the stairs; Teresa left a trail of rambling behind her as she offered last minute advice, and Lily heard one final exclamation of: "And please, Petunia, no boys in the house!" before the door slammed shut.

Lily waited. She heard muffled fragments of conversation from outsider her window, car doors closing, and then finally—several minutes later—the fading sound of the engine as her parents drove off down the street.

That was her cue. In a single motion, she threw the blankets off of her and jumped out of bed, stomping out of the room. Anger rose within her as she took off down the hall and set to descending the stairs, and by the time she'd reached the bottom, she was about ready to explode. She spotted Petunia hovering by the front door, peeking through the curtain to make sure the van had disappeared; with a squeal of delight, she let it fall back into place and turned around, evidently intending to make a break for the back door; unfortunately, halfway there, she ran into a fuming Lily (whose cheeks were quickly surpassing the shade of the blush) and shrieked.

"Are you happy now?" Lily demanded. She'd tried to remain calm throughout the ordeal with their parents, but it was beginning to hit her that she'd _really _agreed to this, and there was no turning back—and now her temper was quickly boiling over.

Petunia looked rather frightened, but now that she had what she wanted, she didn't have any reason to assuage Lily's irritation. So she simply folded her arms and stuck her chin up in the air. "As a matter of fact, I am. And now I'm going to see the Marauders—so you'd better go back to bed and 'get some rest', like you promised Mom you would."

Lily's hands balled up into fists at her sides and she gnashed her teeth. "So all that crap you fed me earlier about 'getting to know them'," she said in a tight voice, "about them 'learning to trust me'—you were just saying that so that Mom and Dad would have a reason to let you stay home?"

Not even bothering to deny it, Petunia nodded curtly and said, "Uh huh."

Incensed beyond belief, Lily mentally kicked herself. She'd known all along, of course, that Petunia was working purely for her own selfish reasons (if she'd faked sick on her own, there was no way Bob and Teresa would have believed her—not when she'd already spent the entire morning trying to get out of the trip) but part of her had wanted to believe that maybe—just maybe—there was a tiny chance that at least _some_ of what she'd said had been genuine...

No, she decided, as her sister giggled euphorically and skipped away to the back door. There was no such thing as genuine where Petunia was concerned.

She remained at the foot of the stairs for some time, unsure what to do, pondering the situation and feeling a sense of impending doom set in more firmly with every passing moment. Here she was, stuck at home with her maniac sister and four pig-headed rock stars, missing out on the vacation she'd been looking forward to for weeks. She had nothing to do, nowhere to hide, and nobody sane to keep her company...

Just as that grim thought crossed her mind, she heard soft footfalls and a meowing noise from nearby, and looked up. Her heart leapt as Harry came trotting through the doorway, having returned from wherever he'd mysteriously disappeared to, and hurried toward her.

"Harry!" she gasped, filled with a sense of joy for the first time since this morning. God, was she ever glad to have him around; even if he couldn't talk, he was better company than Petunia and the Marauders any day. Lily smiled and scooped him up into her arms, scratching behind his ears and stroking him affectionately as he purred.

Only then did she notice that he was covered in hay and smelled very faintly of cinnamon.

* * *

**A/N:** MERLIN'S PANTS! We actually finished it on time! Yeah, we can't get over the shock either...

Anyway, there are a couple of apologies to be made for this chapter, starting with the fact that it was so pathetically short compared to the others. That's not necessarily a bad thing (since the others sort of got out of hand...), although it would have been nice to keep the lengths fairly uniform. The trouble is, we already have scene-by-scene plans for each chapter, so we just write what we need to without worrying about the length. Second apology: Yes, we know it wasn't exactly the most exciting chapter, but there was a lot of setting up and explaining to be done. We can promise you, however, that the next chapter is where things start to get really... _interesting_... (How's that for suspense?)

Also, we'd like to say a big thank you to everyone who reviewed Chapter Two. Once again, the response was incredible. Gollum loves you all!

And finally, just a quick note: We realize we're idiots for not mentioning this at the start of the first chapter, but just to clear everything up, Starstruck is set in the **present day**, as opposed to 1977, when Lily was technically seventeen. We're sorry if this annoys anybody, but we decided it would be easier to write about the whole band concept if it was set in a time period we were familiar with. Plus, it's already so AU that it doesn't really matter, right? :P We hope this explains any inconsistencies you might have picked up on. :)

As usual, reviews would be awesome. Reviews encourage us to write more, you know, so technically, the more reviews we get, the more likely we are to update on time... Not that we're trying to blackmail you or anything. ;)

Sinseerlie,

Liz and Sam  
(_Seven Scribbles_)

P.S. 'Vulpecula' is not gibberish, as it may seem. You may have noticed that all our chapter titles (oh-so-cleverly) have something to do with stars. Vulpecula is actually a constellation; it's a fox, which we thought was appropriate given how much the characters seemed to be lying/sneaking around in this chapter. Ain't we smat? :P


	4. Rockstars Everywhere

**Disclaimer:** WE DON'T OWN THIS. IT'S J.K. ROWLING'S. PLEASE DON'T SUE US!

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Rockstars Everywhere

* * *

"Lily."

At the unwelcome intrusion to her slumber, Lily rolled over and scrunched up her face, fighting hard to remain in the soft clutches of sleep. She didn't want to wake up. Waking up meant facing the rubbish heap that had somehow managed to become her life, and that, she decided, was simply too depressing to contemplate. At least in her dreams, she could pretend that yesterday had never happened—or better yet, that Petunia was not her sister.

"Lily!" The voiced sliced through the air again, louder and more agitated this time. Lily could feel her safe haven beginning to slip away, and she gritted her teeth.

"Mmph, go 'way." Reaching up a clumsy hand, she waved it limply in a 'get lost' sort of gesture, hoping that her sister would get the message.

To her utmost astonishment, Petunia seemed to heed this advice, and the room fell silent. She must have been feeling particularly sympathetic that morning, Lily thought happily; maybe she was beginning to regret having been so heartless yesterday.

These thoughts, however, dried up not a second later when the sheets were stripped unceremoniously off of her bed and a rush of cold air acted as a cruel return to consciousness.

"Oi! What the—?" Groggily, Lily sat up, squinting around the room for any sign of the culprit. She caught her a moment later, sheets clutched tightly in her bony hands, face twisted into an evil smirk.

In an instant, Lily was wide awake. She jumped to her feet furiously, glaring at Petunia all the while. "_What_is your problem?" she demanded.

Petunia didn't even react. Calmly, she deposited the wad of bedding back into its original position and then wiped her hands onto her skirt as though she had been handling hazardous waste. "I need you to cook breakfast," she informed her coolly.

"_Excuse_ me?" Lily's jaw dropped and she let out a ridiculously loud scoff at her sister's order. "What am I, your slave? Go cook your own sodding breakfast!"

"No," Petunia sounded irritated as she shook her head back and forth, "I mean, you know, pancakes and stuff. Like the other day."

Realizing with a horrible sinking feeling what she meant, Lily was hit with an overwhelming urge to wring her sister's neck. Instead, she shook her head adamantly. "I am _not_making pancakes for the bloody Marauders, if that's what you're asking."

Petunia, who looked strangely desperate, pinched her lips together. "They're not for the Marauders," she told her in a tight voice. "They're… they're for me."

At this, Lily let out a loud, harsh snort and folded her arms with contempt. "Give it up, Petunia. You haven't eaten pancakes since before high school."

"Please, Lily." Petunia's face broke into an expression of all-out beseechingness. "You know I can't cook that stuff properly. It's all so greasy and horrible and it's going to get all over my clothes and then I'll look like a dirty kitchen hand, and—" She broke off, heaved a dramatic sigh and slumped her shoulders forward, evidently trying to look helpless and defeated. "Please? You're so much better at it than I am."

But Lily wasn't about to be fooled again by her false display of sisterly dependence. After all, her failure to see through Petunia's act yesterday had been what had caused her to get stuck in this situation to begin with. She wasn't the kind of bird that flew into the same window twice.

"Forget it, Petunia," she said resolutely, shaking her head. "I'm not doing it. If you want to impress them, then do it with your _own_ cooking." She knew full well that Petunia would never so much as touch a frying pan, but that was the point—if she couldn't bring herself to cook anything, then the Marauders would go hungry. And if the Marauders went hungry, then they would be forced to leave. Lily felt a surge of joy at the thought.

Petunia, however, wasn't willing to give up so easily. For a moment she looked hurt and betrayed, but then her eyes widened with inspiration, and Lily could practically see the light bulb hovering over her blonde head. "If you don't cook their breakfast for me...," said Petunia slowly, and then paused for dramatic effect, "I'll call Mom and Dad and tell them you faked sick yesterday."

Lily rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she couldn't believe how boundless her sister's stupidity really was. "Yeah, go ahead—if you want them to come home and see you're harbouring a bunch of teenage boys in the barn. Wasn't that the _point_ of sending them away?"

Her sister's eyes narrowed and her shoulders rose, and then with an annoyed "Hmph!" she turned around and stomped out of the room. Lily wasn't sure what she planned to do about the whole breakfast dilemma, but quite frankly it didn't really matter to her—she just wanted to get back to sleep. So, once Petunia was gone, she shut the door and threw herself back into bed, rolling over so she was just inches from the wall and trying to be engulfed in the soft, warm cocoon of obliviousness she'd been so unceremoniously yanked from.

She managed to get back to sleep within a couple of minutes, but it was barely peaceful. Instead of the butterflies and rainbows she'd been hoping for, she dreamt of Jack-in-the-boxes. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as she wound the handle of a colourful wooden box, haunting music floating through her subconscious. In a terrifyingly sudden movement, the lid sprang open, and James Potter's head burst from inside, supported by a twisted spring and laughing madly. Panicking, Lily attempted to close the box, but to no avail. All around her, other boxes appeared and opened to reveal the altered faces of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. They began to close in around her, singing _Mischief Managed_, their most recent hit, in wonky, distorted voices. Screaming as they drew closer and closer, Lily curled up into a ball, waiting for her inevitable doom…

And then, with a choked gasp, she sat up in bed. The acrid smell of burnt toast was all around her, so intense that she was forced to lift her sheet up to her nose and use it as a facemask as she squinted into the sunlight. Eyes watering and stinging, she bolted toward the window and flung it open, sticking her head outside and gasping in a breath of fresh air.

For a moment, Lily feared that her sister had burnt the house down in her attempt to cook breakfast. Coincidentally, however, the back door slid open at exactly that moment, and Lily watched as Petunia emerged from the house, holding a couple of cereal boxes and a jug of milk and looking royally pissed off. Lily took a moment to smirk in malicious satisfaction at her sister's obvious failure in the culinary department. She could only imagine the dismay Petunia was feeling at having to present her idols with such an ordinary breakfast. Judging by the smell, however, Corn Flakes were a step up from whatever it was that she had attempted to make in the first place.

Deciding that she should probably use this opportunity to assess the kitchen for damage, Lily descended the stairs in trepidation of what might await her.

For good reason, it seemed. The smoke in the kitchen was so thick that Lily coughed and had to wave a hand in front of her face before she could see properly; when her eyes managed to focus, she was confronted with a horrible sight: with pieces of blackened toast strewn all over the counter (and some on the floor), a bottle of maple syrup knocked over and oozing its contents into the utensil drawer, and an assortment of eggs, flower and other baking supplies scattered everywhere, it looked as though a bomb had hit the place. It was a wonder the smoke alarm hadn't gone off by now. No, scratch that; what was _more_ incredible was that Lily had managed to sleep through the entire thing.

With a deep sigh, she traipsed to the laundry room and returned armed with rubber gloves, a pail of water and a few rags. Scrubbing down the kitchen wasn't exactly her idea of an enjoyable morning activity, but she knew her sister, and there was no way in Hell that Petunia was ever going to clean this up.

Fifteen minutes later, Lily was flushed pink and covered in a sheen of sweat from all the scrubbing, and she was beginning to feel very hot and bothered in the stiflingly smoky air. The fabric of her pyjamas was sticking to her skin unpleasantly and her hair was too warm on the nape of her neck. She was in the middle of throwing the long, red strands into a messy knot on top of her head when the door burst open, revealing a very peppy Petunia.

Lily opened her mouth, ready to give her sister a piece of her mind, when suddenly, more figures began to shuffle through the doorway. The words dried up in her throat.

"Oh, hey Firecracker," said James, who was the first to notice her there, on the floor, gaping dumbly at them, covered in sweat and grime, hands frozen above her head where she hadn't quite finished putting her hair back. When she didn't respond, he grinned lazily and carried on. "So why is it that you're always in pyjamas when we see you? Is it like... a fashion statement or something?"

He was mocking her, obviously. _You don't look much better yourself,_she wanted to snap at him; he and the other Marauders were completely dishevelled, with straw in their (now unintentionally) rumpled hair, dirt coating them from head to toe, and bug bites evident where their skin was exposed. Peter's face was scrunched up in discomfort as he scratched at a red spot on his neck, and Remus was rubbing his lower back. Sirius and James didn't look like they'd fared any better.

That, however, was the last thing on Lily's mind right now. When she could finally bring herself to move, Lily let go of her hair and shot to her feet—so abruptly that she knocked over the bucket of water and suds next to her—and shouted, in what was quite possibly the mostthunderous tone she had ever employed, "PETUNIA!"

Her sister, at the very least, had the sense to look a little stunned. The flicker of emotion, however, passed almost as soon as it had appeared, and in an instant, she was back to her composed, collected self. "It's boiling hot out there, Lily," she pointed out, a pleading quality to her voice. "It's not fair for them to be suffering in that god-awful barn while we have all this free space…"

"Oh, no." Lily stood up, voice dangerously low, and removed her rubber gloves with a 'thwack'. "This is not happening. They are _not_coming in the house."

Petunia let out a frustrated noise. "You are so _heartless_!" she burst out. "Look at them! The least they could use is a shower and a proper meal—"

"Bloody hell, Petunia, you've been feeding them five times a day! They're not about to starve! And if they want a shower _that_badly, they can damn well go to a hotel!"

A short, embarrassed cough came from the general direction of the Marauders, and both sisters turned to see all four boys looking slightly sheepish.

"Don't worry about it," Remus offered, making to head back through the door. "We can see that it's causing you some, ah, trouble…"

"No! Don't go!" Petunia rushed toward the exit immediately, slamming her back up against it and effectively blocking their escape route. "I'm sorry my sister's such a pain, but don't let it stop you from—"

"Really," James tone was firm, "we don't want to impose." He glanced at Lily, who in turn raised her eyebrows. "Obviously this, er, isn't the best time."

Lily narrowed her eyes and snarled: "Finally catching on, are you?"

Ignoring this snappy reply, James continued toward the door, pushing past Petunia. The rest of the Marauders followed, and the elder Evans sister could only watch in dismay as they filed back out of the house.

The moment the door slid closed, Petunia rounded on Lily like some sort of possessed, demonic monster. "Are you happy now?" she ground out, glaring with such intensity that flames might have started to shoot from her eyes.

Finally managing to secure her hair in a messy bun, Lily breathed in through her nostrils. "No, I'm not," she shot back. "And I won'tbe until you get rid of those idiots."

Petunia's eyes went wide in frustration. "Why do you always have to ruin _everything_?" This outburst was let loose with such emotion, such frustration, that Lily started slightly.

Recomposing herself, she turned toward her sister angrily. "_Me_ruin everything? God, Petunia! You ruined my entire vacation!"

"No I didn't!" Petunia yelled back. "It was _your_choice to stay here—don't blame me."

"Ugh!" Lily threw her hands up in frustration. "Don't act like you didn't practically force me into it!"

"I didn't!"

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't!"

"That's it! I can't take this anymore! I am _leaving_!" Lily spun around and stomped down the hallway in rage, pausing momentarily to grab a jacket from a hook on the wall.

Behind her, Petunia called out: "Good! And don't come back!", and that was the last thing she heard before she flung the front door open and stormed outside.

The door slammed violently behind her with a resonating _bang_ and she launched herself down the porch steps, skipping all of them in her haste to get as far away from here as was physically possible. In another couple of seconds she'd crossed the empty driveway and veered right onto the sidewalk, where she began stalking down the street with an ugly glower on her face. She had no particular destination in mind—only a purpose: to put as much distance as she could between herself and the mess she'd left behind.

Yesterday, she'd thought she'd made the right decision—for her sanity, if nothing else—by staying home. She'd managed to convince herself that it couldn't _possibly_be that bad, just as long as she stayed around to make sure things didn't get out of hand. Evidently, though, the job description wasn't quite as simple as just sitting there and saying "no"—it was like playing warden in a nuthouse, and if things carried on like this, Lily feared that she, too, would go completely barmy by the time these five days were through. Hell, it had only been twenty-four hours since her not-so-wise decision and already her patience was dangling by a thread.

Her feet carried her swiftly down the street, pounding the concrete footpath with every step. Around the corner, she ran into a group of children on tiny bicycles with training wheels and bright-coloured streamers pouring out of the handles, and the small gathering parted like the Red Sea as she approached them, fearful looks on their faces. Lily felt a twinge of remorse for this, and once she was a few metres ahead she slowed her pace in an attempt to calm down.

This did little to help, unfortunately, for without the constant hum of the wind against her ears, she felt her mind drifting right back to the Marauders and Petunia. Every time she thought about the situation at home, she cycled through a whole array of bitter emotions—anger, regret, despair, annoyance—and ended up with the urge to punch somebody. She pictured James' conceited, smirking face in front of her, and had to restrain herself from taking aim at an imaginary target.

So she sped up again, and continued travelling in no distinct direction—across the road, down a couple of side streets, and into downtown Gryffindale (which, given the town's measly population and square mileage, wasn't much of a "downtown", and consisted of a grand total of one strip mall, one country steakhouse and a variety store that doubled as a gas station) —until she came to a long residential road on the other side and realized that she was quickly approaching the worn blue sign at the edge of town that announced "You are now leaving GRYFFINDALE". It was as if the sign had been put there to tempt her, and admittedly, it _was_ a very tempting option. She contemplated going that extra hundred metres, but then her conscience got the better of her and she stopped halfway down the street, turning instead onto a gravelly path that led down a slope and into a small park shaded by several majestic oak trees.

The playground held many happy childhood memories for Lily, and for a moment, reminiscence overshadowed her black mood as she admired the yellow plastic slide, the rusting monkey bars and the single swing that she and Petunia had spent many of their younger days fighting over. In what was perhaps a subconscious desire to annoy her sister, Lily plodded across the sandy ground and plonked herself down on its cracked seat, allowing it to sway gently back and forth. The placid rhythm succeeded in lowering her heart rate, and after a few minutes, she felt her breathing begin to slow.

Suddenly, however, a burst of female chatter invaded her peaceful bubble and she glanced behind her to see a trio of preteen girls climbing the playground's wooden ladder, giggling. Lily, who had rather been enjoying the silence, found herself annoyed at the interruption. Weren't they a little old to be making use of the playground equipment? Well, she was there, of course, but obviously the swings were quite a different story—they were acceptable for all ages. The slide? Not so much.

However, the girls didn't seem to intend to make use of the slide. Instead, they stationed themselves on the wooden planks of the tower in a circular formation and began a giggly conversation. Turning back to face the other way again, Lily allowed the strands of their voices to float toward her ears...

And froze.

"Nuh-uh, Sirius is _way_ hotter than James!"

Bloody Hell. Was there no escape?

"Stacy!" This one sounded as though the sky had fallen. "How can you say that? You said two weeks ago that James was your favourite!"

"I know, but I changed my mind. I took this quiz in Quibla last week, and it said Sirius was my type—so now he's my favourite."

_Well, golly-gee,_thought Lily sarcastically, _if a magazine said so, then it_must_be true._

"Well, I haven't taken that quiz, but I'm _sure_ James is my type," said the first voice. "I mean, we're perfect for each other—he has black hair, I've got blonde"—Lily couldn't say she was surprised to hear that—"he's tall, I'm short... Oh my god, and remember that time we were on live chat with them and he answered my question with a _winking face?_"

This prompted a long string of gushing and squealing—and, in Lily's case, gagging.

"You two are _so_ meant to be, Becky!" said the third girl, who spoke with a distinct lisp that made her comment sound even more comical than it was to begin with. She sighed. "I wish I'd gotten to talk to Remus..." Except it came out sounding like "Remuth", and Lily had to bite back a snort.

"Why do you like Remus so much?" asked one of the others. "He's so, like... shy," she said, as if it were an incredibly insightful assessment of his character.

"But that's what I like about him! He's so mysterious and brooding..."

The one called Stacy relented. "Yeah, okay," she said. "I guess they're all pretty hot... so long as they're not Peter."

The girls broke into a chorus of giggles at this, which grated on Lily's ears for a good minute before they finally died down into sighs. They were silent for a moment, and Lily wondered if they might have left—but then they spoke again, and the conversation had a much more miserable tone to it.

"I can't believe they're like... gone...," said one sadly.

"I wonder where they are?"

A long pause followed, and Lily's ears were exceedingly grateful for the reprieve. Unfortunately, it was short-lived—there was an excited intake of breath, and then Lisp-Girl burst out: "Hey, guys, imagine if they were here in Gryffindale _right now_."

"Yeah, right, Kelsey. As if _that_would ever happen."

Lily had stopped breathing. _If only they knew_, she thought sourly as they continued to titter about this possibility. It was all too much. Even in the sanctuary of the little park, the Marauders wouldn't leave her alone, and it was beyond infuriating.

With a deep sigh, Lily rose from the swing, leaving it to rock faintly back and forth with a creaky groan. For a moment, she contemplated extending her walk, but the thought of leaving Petunia alone for too long was mildly terrifying, and so she found herself trudging back in the direction of her house, head filled with a single, depressing thought:

_Why me?_

* * *

Lily took the porch steps one at a time, psyching herself up to go inside. The house, she noted, didn't look quite so evil anymore—at least, not from out here. There was no sign that the Marauders had ever been here—no sign that they had ever come to Gryffindale and ruined her summer. Part of Lily embraced this wishful thinking and began to hope that she had been imagining things all along, from the night at the barn right up to this morning, with Petunia and her screaming at one another. She put her hand on the doorknob and stepped inside.

Instantly, Harry shot across her path.

And then...

Chaos.

Everywhere.

Lily took another step past the threshold, eyes wide and unblinking as she attempted to work out what was going on.

It was loud—much too loud. The sound of water running crashed through her ears as though both the upstairs and downstairs showers were running full blast, (which, she realized a second later, they were) and an assortment of T-shirts and jeans belonging to her father was scattered across the hard-wood floor leading into the kitchen. At the end of the trail, she found Petunia standing in its midst, rifling through the garments carelessly.

"Petunia," Lily's voice was shaky as she addressed her sister, "what the _hell_are you—?"

"Oi, Twiggie, haven't got any crisps, have you?" Sirius Black burst into the kitchen suddenly, speaking through a mouthful of food and clutching a crinkled package of pretzels in his hand. Swallowing, he made a face, and then held the bag out to Petunia as though expecting her to exchange them for something better.

Petunia didn't even bother to look at him. "Ew, gross," she said, chucking aside a faded grey sweatshirt with the words "World's Best Dad" written on the front. Lily had given that to Bob for Father's Day three years ago, and seeing Petunia handle it so shoddily only served to make her even angrier. "We don't keep that sort of food in the—"

"You have GOT to be kidding me."

Staring at the scene in disbelief, Lily had been walking slowly past the trail of clothes to where Petunia knelt. Her presence had gone unnoticed until now, apparently, because Petunia jumped when she spoke up and dropped the garment she'd been holding (a dark red hooded jacket) as she turned to regard the new arrival in the doorway. Lily just stood there and shook her head disbelievingly. It was in that moment that she noticed Sirius' wet hair and freshly shaven face, and… Her eyes darted to his clothes and then widened to about three times their usual size as she noticed what he was wearing.

"I don't believe this," she said faintly.

Ignoring her, Petunia siphoned through the clothing heap again, this time extracting a brown sweater that Bob hardly ever wore due to the fact that it was about three sizes too big for him.

"Did you find anything?" Peter's head appeared suddenly from behind the doorway leading into the hall. He looked oddly nervous, blinking repeatedly whilst eyeing Petunia with a hopeful gaze.

Petunia held up the sweater. "Is this alright?" she queried.

"Yeah, great," Peter replied, sounding relieved.

"Wormtail, mate, what's with the sweater desperation? It's the middle of summer, in case you hadn't realized." Sirius raised his eyebrows as Petunia passed the garment into the boy's pudgy hands.

Peter merely muttered something about 'low body fat percentage' before dashing back down the hallway and escaping to the bathroom.

Lily, who had barely paid attention to a word of this exchange, rounded on her sister once again. "Why is he," she pointed toward Sirius, glowering mutinously, "_wearing_ _Dad's clothes_?"

Petunia rolled her eyes. "Well, I couldn't exactly have them changing back into their filthy ones after cleaning up, could I?" she replied snappishly.

"You let them use our _showers_?" Lily asked, face frozen in an expression of dread.

"Duh," came Petunia's response.

Lily was so blown away by the insanity of the entire situation that she didn't even notice when the upstairs water stopped running. Petunia, on the other hand, was immediately on alert; she shot to her feet, smoothed out her white blouse and flicked a tendril of blonde hair over one shoulder. Her gaze gravitated toward the front hall, but Lily snapped her fingers impatiently in front of Petunia's face.

"Hey! Listen to me! Do you even have a clue what you've done?"

Petunia rolled her eyes. "I did what we _should_ have done right from the beginning. I gave them what they wanted—some food, clean clothes, a nice place to stay. I don't see what your problem is—I'm just trying to be a good hostess!"

"Oh my god, Petunia! You are _such_ an idiot! If we'd just left them outside, then—"

At that moment, there was the sound of sloppy male footsteps coming down the stairs, and Petunia disappeared right before Lily's eyes. Too angry to react quickly, she stood there for a moment, staring evilly at the spot Petunia had just vacated. Then, with what could only be described as a growl, Lily swivelled around—ignoring Sirius, who was munching noisily on a mouthful of pretzels and regarding her with amusement—and followed her sister into the front hall.

Of course, she'd known it would be James coming down the stairs if Petunia was this much on edge about it, but she wasn't quite prepared for the sight she was met with when she emerged from the kitchen. There he was, sauntering down the stairs in all his typical arrogance, smirk firmly in place, _wearing her dad's favourite T-shirt_. The one with the Gryffindale Griffins logo on it; the one that looked so Bob-ish that Lily just felt like giving him a big bear hug every time he wore it. Seeing it on James was the hugest juxtaposition in the history of the universe—and it quickly revived her thoughts of socking him one in the face.

James, however, seemed to interpret her staring as something entirely different. "Checking me out, Firecracker?" he said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "I know, you can say it—I look amazing in red."

An indistinguishable noise came from the back of her throat, and she narrowed her eyes. "Take that shirt _off_. Right. Now."

James's eyebrows shot up.

"Well, if you insis—"

"No!" Lily's face flushed in a combination of anger and humiliation. "Don't… That's not what I… I mean… Petunia!" Giving up, she whipped around to fix her sister with a murderous glare. She breathed in slowly, incensed. "_What_ is he doing in Dad's Griffins shirt?"

Dreamily, Petunia sighed, eyes still firmly attached to James' chest. "I thought it would suit him," she replied faintly.

For some crazy reason, Lily was hit with a sudden urge to just fall to the floor and break down in tears. Or jump off a cliff, maybe—anything to save her from this nightmare.

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you looked at it), she wasn't given much of a chance to act upon this impulse, because at that moment, Petunia turned and began sprinting up the stairs.

"Hey!" Lily called out, shooting after her angrily. "We aren't finished here!"

She was completely and utterly ignored, and within an instant, Petunia had disappeared into the bathroom that they shared with a vacant giggle.

_Give me strength_, Lily thought as she took a reluctant step through the doorway after her sister.

Inside, the bathroom was a mess. There was water all over the floor, bottles knocked over on the counter, and a heap of dirty clothes piled into one corner. Petunia, standing in the middle of it all as if she were in heaven, had latched onto a fluffy green towel and had her face buried in the cottony material as she inhaled deeply. Two things about this were exceptionally disturbing: one, that towel belonged to Lily, and as she put two and two together, she vowed that she would never use it again; and two... Well, the second thing pretty much spoke for itself in terms of the creepiness factor.

Lily made a face. "You are _really_ demented," she said flatly, yanking the towel out of Petunia's hands. Then, with a horrible realization of what she was touching, she dropped it on the floor and backed away as if it were a bomb about to explode.

Petunia didn't seem to be bothered by Lily's intervention, though. As soon as the towel was out of her grasp, she headed straight for the shower, whose glass panes were still all fogged up with condensation, and stepped inside. With a look of utter reverence in her eyes, she reached out with a slightly trembling hand to pick up the bar of soap that was perched on the ledge by the showerhead. Once she had it in her grasp, she cradled it in two hands and pulled it toward her.

"James Potter touched _this soap_," she breathed, as she stepped forward out of the shower.

Unable to watch the disturbing spectacle any longer, Lily reached forward and snatched the bar from her sister's hands. She dropped it into the garbage bin, gagging slightly, and said in a tone of utmost revulsion and horror: "_James Potter_touched this soap." This bathroom would never be the same again.

She then proceeded to turn on the tap and scrub her hands under scalding water for a few seconds, trying to erase all traces of him from her skin. Switching the water off, she remembered her green towel's fate and settled for wiping her palms a couple of times on her shorts.

Male laughter rung out suddenly from downstairs, and Lily was reminded of the Marauders' presence in the kitchen. Feeling like some sort of harebrained baby-sitter, she left Petunia standing dazedly in the middle of tiled floor—evidently torn between her aversion to garbage and the need to retrieve the sacred bar of soap—and rushed back down the hallway to the staircase. These stairs, she thought, served as a sort of passageway into Hell; every time she descended them, she feared what she might find at the bottom.

In the kitchen, James and Sirius were throwing pretzels into the air and attempting to catch them in their mouths while Remus, who seemed to have joined them in Lily's absence, watched them from the couch, chewing on something.

"Does anybody smell… chocolate?" Petunia, who had apparently followed Lily into the kitchen, was sniffing the air, junk-food radar on alert.

Remus glanced up at her immediately, looking both sheepish and confused. "Er... yeah, sorry. I had it in my pocket. Is somebody allergic or something?"

Petunia's body tensed up and she forced a smile, but her face just morphed into a grotesque expression that made her look like a maniac. For one brief—and obviously empty-headed—moment, Lily thought about apologizing for her sister's rude behaviour, but she quickly thought better of it. Remus may have been the most tolerable of the Marauders, but that only made him the lesser of four evils, and that was no reason to stick up for him. Instead, Lily folded her arms and smirked at the look on Petunia's face.

"She might as well be," she said, answering Remus's question and eliciting a glare from Petunia.

"Hey, where's Peter?" James asked suddenly, changing the subject as Remus awkwardly stowed his chocolate away in his jeans pocket.

"Dunno," said Sirius. "He kinda wandered off before, after Twiggie gave him a jacket..."

At that moment, as if prompted by the turn of their conversation, the back door swung open and Peter stumbled casually in, hands in pockets, eyes on the floor, whistling a dumb tune to himself—and apparently unaware of the fact that everybody in the house had their eyes on him.

"Where've you been?" James questioned, regarding his friend with raised eyebrows.

Peter looked up. "Oh, just… making a phone call," he replied, tugging at his sleeves.

"Wormtail, you idiot!" Sirius exclaimed, his grey eyes narrowed. "Didn't we agree not to contact anyone? Who were you talking to?"

At this, Peter's eyes went wide and then he looked down embarrassedly, eyes trained on the carpet as he mumbled: "I was trying to call… Mum. No reception, though."

Around him, James and Remus exchanged identical looks of exasperation and Sirius clapped a hand to his forehead. "Don't do it again, mate. The last thing we need right now is for someone else to find out where we are."

_Someone else_. The words struck a nerve with Lily, and she felt her hands curl into fists as she realized that, in the Marauders' eyes, she and Petunia were simply an inconvenient hindrance in their quest for anonymity. Did they not understand what an inconvenience _they_were to Lily? As if it wasn't enough that they had barged into her life and destroyed what might have been a beautiful, tranquil summer, they had to go and act like _she_was the one at fault. Unsurprisingly, she was hit with yet another urge to slam her fist into their smug faces.

She was so caught up in these angry thoughts that she almost didn't hear the doorbell ring—but when the Marauders suddenly went still and glanced warily at one another, the noise and its implications settled in, and for no apparent reason Lily found herself panicking, too.

"You expecting anybody?" James asked in a strained voice, looking between Lily and Petunia as though they might have planned for this to happen.

"No," Lily responded in spite of herself. "Everyone thinks we're—"

The doorbell rang again, and this time the caller sounded impatient, ringing multiple times in quick succession. Lily quickly formulated a plan in her head. They didn't _have_to answer the door; as she'd already pointed out, the Evanses were all supposed to be on vacation. If they just stayed still and didn't make any noise, then hopefully whoever it was at the door would go away. She was about to suggest this to the others when Petunia suddenly squealed "HIDE!" and the Marauders, in their state of panic, scrambled to their feet and dispersed. The resulting flurry of noises was such a ruckus that whoever it was at the door would, no doubt, be alerted to the fact that somebody was home by now.

Before Lily had time to respond to this, Petunia shot off after James like a puppy on the heels of its owner. James ran around like a headless chicken for a few seconds, and then, like the true idiot he was, headed straight for the front hall, of all places. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remus leap agilely over the back of the couch he'd been sitting on and duck down below the windowsill. Peter and Sirius were nowhere to be seen.

Lily slapped a hand to her forehead and ran after Petunia and James; when she found them, the latter was in the midst of shoving himself into the coat closet, apparently unaware of the fact that it had completely transparent plexiglass doors. Petunia stepped excitedly into the closet after him, looking more like they were playing an exceptionally thrilling game of hide and go seek than harbouring fugitive rock stars who claimed that not being seen was a matter of life or death.

"Petunia!" she exclaimed, reaching out for her sister's arm but missing. The glass door slid shut between them, creating a nearly invisible wall. "_You_ don't have to hide, you idiot!" she said incredulously, making wild hand gestures to indicate that Petunia was being a complete and utter moron. Petunia, however, just ignored Lily and pressed herself closer to James, who had apparently just discovered the nature of the closet and was frantically trying to bury himself behind a wad of jackets.

The doorbell rang again, at least seven times in a row.

Lily heaved an exasperated sigh and stomped off toward the door. By now, she had a fair idea of who was calling—but she had no idea _why_. Her suspicions were confirmed when the door swung open to reveal Vernon Dursley standing on the front porch with what looked like a jar of jam clutched beneath his bony knuckles.

"Vern?" Lily exclaimed, trying not to let her panic show. "What are you doing here?"

After giving her his classic you're-not-Petunia look of disappointment, he slouched a little and looked impatient. "Is Petunia home?"

Lily thought she heard whispering somewhere behind her, so she closed the door a couple of inches to try and block out the sound. "Er..." She paused, trying to decide on the most appropriate conversational tactic to get him to leave. "How did you know we were here, like... at all? Didn't we tell you we were going on vacation?"

Vernon straightened his glasses. "Well, yes, you did, but I was watching Petunia's window earlier this morning—erm, I mean, not that I actually watch her window or anything... I just, well, happened to see it out of the corner of my eye—and there was a light on, so I assumed you must have stayed home for some reason. So I thought I'd drop by with this homemade blackberry jam for Petunia, but... Is she here?" He glanced hopefully past Lily, trying to catch a glimpse into the hall. Lily closed the gap even farther and put on a false smile; it mustn't have been a very good one, though, because Vernon's eyebrows formed a wonky shape on his forehead and he took a few quick steps back, nearly toppling down the front steps in the process.

"Er, actually..." Lily cleared her throat. "Petunia is home"—she decided (if only for good karma) to stick with at least a little bit of the truth—"but... she's sick. Like, really sick. Very contagious. So... I'll just take that and, er, give it to her later?" She reached out to take the jam from him, but he snatched it away and clutched it to his chest as if trying to protect it.

"No!" said Vernon adamantly. "I simply must give it to Petunia myself. I don't care how sick she is—I need to see her." Apparently, there was no stopping him. As soon as he finished speaking, he gave the door an almighty shove—whacking Lily's heel and causing her to gasp in pain—and pushed past her into the house, shouting, "PETUNIA!"

"No!" Ignoring the pain in her heel, Lily shot in front of him with inhuman speed, casting a quick, fearful glance toward the door of the front hall closet. Her heart plummeted when she saw that James' arm was squashed up against the glass panel and Petunia's legs were quite visible beneath the hanging coats—it was, she thought dully, the dumbest hiding spot that anyone could have chosen.

Anxiety thumping through her veins, Lily hurried to shift Vernon's attention elsewhere. "Really… she's not well!" she insisted.

But this feeble protest did little to deter him. With renewed vigour, he announced: "Well, if she's sick, then all the more reason for me to cheer her up," and darted around her and into the kitchen. No doubt, he was headed for the staircase, and Lily's chest seized up at the thought; if he got to Petunia's room and found it empty…

"Vern!" she cried desperately, racing to catch up with him again. "I can't let you—"

At that moment, the pantry door creaked open and Sirius was momentarily exposed, fighting to maintain his balance in the shallow hiding spot. Lily watched in horror as he toppled out, as if in slow motion, and crashed to the ground with an almighty _thud_. After looking momentarily horror-struck, he attempted to roll subtly around the corner and into the hallway.

"What was that?" Vernon, who had been looking in the other direction, snapped his head around to the open pantry, forehead wrinkled in suspicion.

"What was what?" Lily returned, her voice a little higher than usual. "I didn't hear anything." She put on a cheesy smile for good measure, deciding that feigning innocence was the only way to go at this stage.

Frowning, Vernon shook his head. "Nothing… I could have sworn I saw… Never mind…"

Lily, seeing this momentary lapse in determination as an opportunity to get rid of the unwanted visitor, grabbed his arm and began marching him back in the other direction. "Sorry, Vern," she told him, yanking the jam jar out of his hands. "I'll give this to Petunia straightaway—I'm sure she'll be _so_thankful," a faint coughing sound erupted from the front hall closet at this, and Lily kicked Petunia mentally before continuing: "but she's not in any state for visitors right now, so if you want to come back in, say, a few weeks…" Arriving at the front door, she pulled it open and motioned for him to be on his way.

"Something's going on here," Vernon pronounced, crossing his arms from where he stood in the threshold. "Something… fishy. And I'm going to figure out what it is."

Internally, Lily cringed at the thought of Vernon going into Sherlock Holmes mode—because, as she'd learned over the years, his investigations only ever resulted in disaster, and right now especially, having a nosy wannabe-detective snooping around was the last thing they needed. On the outside, however, she gave him a tight smile and said, "Okay, Vern. You do that." And then she closed the door in his face.

After securing the lock, Lily put her eye to the peephole in the door and made sure he was leaving. Apparently, he was satisfied to mull things over for now, because she saw him making his way purposefully across the lawn. She had a sinking feeling, however, that he would be back.

Letting out the breath she'd been holding in a big whoosh of air, Lily turned around. "Coast is clear," she called out, and the closet door slid open almost immediately. A very disgruntled James stumbled out while attempting to shake Petunia off of his arm, to which she was clinging as though it were some sort of lifeline.

"That is the _last_time I'm dealing with him for you," Lily spat, throwing the jar of jam at her sister with a sour frown. Petunia, by some stroke of luck, managed to detach her hands from James just in time to catch it.

Rubbing his arm, James shot Lily a look of gratitude. She made a point of ignoring this, instead turning her attention back to her sister, who was examining the jar with her lips pinched in distaste.

"Ugh," Petunia commented disgustedly. "Doesn't he realize how many calories are in this sort of homemade stuff? It's like, pure carbs!"

Gritting her teeth, Lily pointedly ignored Petunia and pushed past her and James, heading down the hallway and into the kitchen. "_You_," she said when she spotted Sirius, "need to come up with a better hiding place next time. Do you realize how close that was?"

Sirius, who, infuriatingly, wore an amused sort of half-smile, held his hands up and backed away from her just a little. "Relax, Lulu. I fixed it in the end, didn't I?"

Lily planted her hands on her hips. "_Li-ly_. And no, Black, you didn't bloody _fix_ it." She rolled her eyes, exasperated; as she did, she caught sight of Remus emerging from the sitting room, brushing dust bunnies off of his pants. "At least _one_ of you has some sense," she said, nodding toward him in acknowledgement of his well-chosen hiding spot. "And where's Peter, then? I suppose he's under the table or something?"

But just as she said it, a loud scream sounded from behind her and she whipped around just in time to see Vernon's jam go plummeting to the kitchen floor, shattering into tiny pieces and painting the white linoleum dark purple. Petunia stood in front of the garbage can, her foot held down on the lever and her hands over her mouth. For a moment Lily thought she'd overreacted at something particularly vile she'd seen in the garbage, but then a mousy brown head popped up from inside the bin, looking around with wide, worried eyes, and even Lily was so startled that she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Peter blinked, apparently oblivious to the massive shock he'd just caused, and spoke up in a voice so timid it was almost comical. "Is he gone?"

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**A/N:** Uh, hey guys... Happy 23rd of July! Um... It _is_ the 23rd of July, right?

...

It isn't? What are you talking about? You're saying we missed our uploading date by a _month?_ That is a _very_ serious accusation, Mr. Potter!

Ahem.

So here's the truth. We were really excited for this chapter, but then we got kind of slack. And then we got sidetracked and made a pact to update our own stories (because we'd been neglecting them for so long) and discovered that keeping on track with two stories at once is COMPLETELY IMPOSSIBLE. And then we finished that and patted ourselves on the backs and felt all accomplished... and proceeded to spend five days taking nails out of pieces of wood. Unfortunately this slave work was compulsory and we couldn't get out of it, so we poured all our anger into yanking rusty, twisted, demented chunks of metal out of old barn wood. As you might imagine, through uncountable bug bites and excruciating wrist pains, we became a little delirious, and decided to make a metaphor of this unfortunate situation.

You see, each piece of wood is like a chapter in a story; you pick it up off the ground and fit it into a couple of workmates (Microsoft Word documents). Then, you pick up your tools and start working away at the nails (scenes). _Some_ nails come out straightaway without much elbow grease. Some take a little finagling before you can pry them out, but leave you feeling all clever and resourceful once you're done. And _some_ nails have you smashing them with a hammer and shouting at them until you're blue in the face, and won't come out until you grab the crowbar and throw your entire body weight into the task. Trust us, you don't want to deal with those ones.

So we've realized that (to some extent) the scenes in Starstruck work the same way. Some are easy, some are a little bit harder, and some are so incredibly difficult that once you're finished, you're left so discouraged and exhausted that you just don't want to write anymore.

Is this "metaphor" just a lame excuse for our failure to update? Maybe. Is it the most brilliant way ever to make hard labour fun? Probably. Should you forgive us for our complete and utter pathet(tigrew)ness and leave a nice, long review? Most definitely. :D

Alright, now for a couple sentences of sanity (kind of): It occurred to us as we were writing that this chapter is very, _very_ ridiculous. Bear with us—we swear this story actually has a plot, and it will start to come into play soon. But for now, we just wanted to have a little bit of fun with it and explore the characters before things get too sirius. Also, we are lazy losers and are therefore extremely behind in our whole let's-reply-to-ALL-our-reviews! resolution, but we swears, we will get around to it eventually! We've realized that weekly updates are a little unrealistic for us, and we feel bad for making empty promises, so from now on we won't necessarily have a set updating schedule. Instead, we'll just try to work through the chapters as quickly as we can without putting too much pressure on ourselves, because trust us—neither of us works very well under pressure if there's a way to escape it.

Sorry for the novel of an author's note. We may have gotten a little carried away. BUT, if you've stuck with us this long, you might as well leave a review, right? Come on—you know you want to. ;)

Sinseerlie,

Liz and Sam

(_Seven Scribbles_)


	5. Dancing with the Stars

**Disclaimer:** We may be ridiculously bad updaters, akin to Peter Pettigrew in terms of pathetic-ness, and terribly, _terribly_ sorry—but one thing we are not is J.K. Rowling, and therefore practically none of this belongs to us.

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Chapter Five

Dancing with the Stars

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For Lily, the next two days were the most drawn out, torturous, and down right mind numbing hours of her entire existence.

The moment that Petunia had started setting up sleeping bags in the basement and assigning the Marauders toothbrushes, Lily had realized that not only was her sister more deranged than she had ever imagined, but, most depressingly, that despite her vehement protests, the Marauders weren't planning on clearing out anytime soon.

And so, her fight mechanism having failed dismally, Lily had had to settle for the much-less-appealing flight response. Feeling utterly powerless and frustrated, she had fled to her bedroom, locked the door and landed a nice right hook squarely in the centre of her pillow with a disturbingly demonic scowl on her face.

The following forty-eight hours were a blur of restless pacing, fruitless plotting, and a slow-building ravenous hunger that was the result of surviving off of a tiny stash of lollipops and chocolate bars that she had discovered in the back of her closet. This resulted in alternating sugar highs and lows, and an increasingly unstable Lily who was beginning to go stir-crazy by the time Thursday evening rolled around. Grimy from not having showered in two days, dying for a proper meal and slightly insane from staring at the same surroundings day after day, she was beginning to lose it. Petunia hadn't even bothered to check up on her, and it scared the living daylights out of Lily to imagine what havoc her sister was allowing the Marauders to wreak on their house. The phone had rung a couple of times – presumably Bob and Teresa checking in to make sure everything was fine. Whatever Petunia was telling them though, it must have been convincing, because Mr. and Mrs. Evans clearly hadn't seen fit to return home as of yet.

Now, as Lily looked out the window and saw that the sun had almost fully set, she felt her stomach rumble with such force that it actually made her feel ill. Groaning, she dragged her lifeless body across the room and pulled the lid off of her dwindling box of sweets, staring longingly at the single Kit-Kat remaining at the bottom. Her stomach roared again, and she bit her lip. If she ate it, she would be forced to venture downstairs to find provisions, and that involved possibly bumping into the plague that had taken over her house. But she was starving…

All logic thrown to the wayside, Lily's hand snatched up the chocolate bar of its own accord and she wasted no time in ripping the wrapper off and devouring it in an animalistic fashion. She licked the wrapping furiously, not wanting to waste a single scrap, and then chucked it into the bin beside her dresser, where it fluttered to rest between the remains of several lollipops.

With a guttural sound resembling a grunt, Lily flopped backward onto her bed in a heap. The food was gone. Bob and Teresa were gone. _Her entire bloody summer _had evaporated into thin air as if by the flick of some evil wand, leaving her stranded in the middle of what could only be described as a particularly hellish nightmare. Somehow, she had been reduced to a half-starved, constantly pyjama-clad hermit who hadn't washed her hair in over three days. She was a prisoner in her own _bedroom_, for heaven's sake. It might have been laughable, had it not made her want to cry.

Lily must have fallen asleep then, because the next thing she knew, it was pitch black all around her and she had a horrible knot in her back. Deliriously, she sat up and put a hand to her head, as though to steady it, before turning in a reflex reaction toward the digital clock on her nightstand. Her eyes were met with a blurry patch of red light, and she blinked a few times, willing something coherent to emerge from the haze. Several unproductive seconds later, she gave up and shifted her gaze to where the moon was shining faintly through her gauzy curtains and spilling onto a little patch of carpet.

It was at that moment, as she squinted into the darkness, that a strange melody met her ears. Unexpectedly soft and gentle, it sounded as though it was coming from… a guitar. Lily perked her ears and traced the source of the music to the register in the floor beside her desk. Half-asleep, she stumbled out of bed and dropped onto her hands and knees, crawling across the carpet and leaning over the vent to listen.

The music itself was a simple tune that was hauntingly beautiful, plucked out by practiced fingers on the strings of a guitar. Lily felt her ear gravitating further toward the metal grating, eager to hear more, when suddenly, a smooth voice harmonized softly with the instrument. It was difficult to distinguish lyrics, but Lily's brain decided right then and there that it had never heard a more beautiful piece of music…

And then she bolted upright in sudden realization.

That voice… It was _him._

Suddenly, she was wide awake. It was as though a switch in her head had been flicked; her lips curled into a tight frown, her hands bunched up into fists and she rose to her feet, irritated beyond belief. Furtively, her eyes shifted sideways toward the door, and she made a split second decision.

Less than a minute later, she had chucked on a sweater, thrown her dirty hair into a semi-presentable ponytail and was flinging open the door to her bedroom. In her attempt to navigate the moonlit hallway, she stubbed her toe on a skirting board and almost tumbled down the staircase, but she managed to right herself just in time. Hissing in agony, she took hold of the banister and clung to it firmly for the remainder of her descent.

And then, as she padded across the linoleum of the kitchen floor, Lily realized that the music was no longer audible, and wondered if perhaps she had simply imagined it. This theory was flushed down the toilet, however, when she pulled open the door to the basement and the soft melody greeted her ears once again. Gritting her teeth and fighting the urge to growl, she surged onward, descending the wooden staircase as silently as possible.

For a moment, her hand fumbled to find the light switch at the bottom, but not a moment later, it connected with the little plastic lever and the room was suddenly propelled into blinding clarity.

The music stopped.

Three lumpy, snoring masses were vaguely noted beneath squashy purple sleeping bags on the carpet, but Lily's eyes merely skimmed over them on their journey toward the fourth occupant of the room.

James was sitting on the far side of the basement, right beside the register in the wall, with his back pressed up against the plaster and his hands frozen over the strings of a guitar. He squinted into the sudden burst of light, hair sticking up all over the place, and raised a hand in front of his face as though to block out the intensity of the glow. Lily noted his bare arm, realizing with a jolt that he was only wearing a pair of track pants, and she had to restrain her eyes from roving his (admittedly very toned) body. Inexplicably blushing, she opened her mouth to speak, but James beat her to it.

"Sorry… were you asleep?"

Blinking at the blatant stupidity of this statement, Lily raised her eyebrows. "No, _of course_ I wasn't asleep," she bit out sarcastically. "Who sleeps at three in the morning?"

"Sorry," James said again, and he seemed to come to his senses fully. He lowered his hand from in front of his eyes and let it rest on the neck of his guitar. "That's not – I meant to say sorry, if I woke you." He paused, perhaps expecting Lily to say something.

She didn't.

Clearing his throat, James continued, now sounding slightly unsure: "I woke up with this song in my head – well, more of an idea, really. I thought I was being quiet enough that no one would hear. Sorry," he added again.

Lily bit back a snort. "Next time," she began, her voice acidly cutting. "You might want to consider someplace that's not, you know, _right next to the register_."

Neck reddening, James twisted around to examine the vent and realized his mistake. As he turned back to face Lily, however, his mood seemed to shift. "Why do you always do that?" he asked plainly, looking slightly affronted.

"Do what?"

"I dunno, turn everything into a row," James returned. "I don't think I've ever heard you say something nice; you argue about everything."

Lily's jaw dropped. She felt totally insulted, violated. "I do not!" she managed to protest, despite her shock.

In response, James merely cocked his head. "You realize you're just proving my point, right?"

"I am not!"

He raised his eyebrows in an infuriatingly knowing smirk, and Lily felt like smacking him.

"I'm not arguing! I'm expressing my opinion in a loud voice," she insisted angrily.

And it must have been fairly loud, for at that moment, there was the unmistakeable sound of a shifting sleeping bag and one of the lumps on the floor began to stir.

"Wha'ss going on?" Sirius stuck his head up groggily, his eyes squinty and confused. Upon catching sight of Lily, his lips formed a sort of dopey smile. "Oh, hey Lulu," he greeted her casually. "Haven't seen you in a whi'… Twiggie said you'd run off to join the circus or something or other…" Trailing off nonsensically, he let out a monstrous yawn.

Lily scowled. It might have emerged from Sirius's groggy mutterings, but it seemed exactly the sort of story Petunia would make up about her "freak" sister. Get Lily out of the picture, and absolutely nothing stood in her way of her playing hostess to the Marauders.

Crossing her arms, Lily turned back to James; his eyes were fixed on her, his mouth set in a calculating, half-amused expression, awaiting her response to Sirius's irksome rant. For some reason, this caused Lily's temper to short circuit and she snapped.

"What're you looking at?" she barked at him.

James drew back a little in shock. "Nothing!" he insisted, putting his hands up in front of him.

Lily raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. "No, really, Potter—say it. If you think you know me so well."

James looked sheepish. "Well, it's just... I could tell you were about to explode."

"Oh really?" she snapped, and her fists clenched so tightly that her nails began to cut into her palms. "Well, could you tell that I was about to do this? EVERYBODY OUT!"

At the sheer volume of her shout, Remus sat bolt upright and Peter began groping for an imaginary alarm clock, whining: "Five more minutes…"

Sirius and James both looked stupefied. "_What_?" they exclaimed in unison.

"You heard me," Lily spat. "I'm sick of you lot hanging about and mucking everything up. Bloody hell – this is my house, too, and I've had enough!"

James gaped at her. "You want us to just… leave? _Now?_"

"_Yes_," Lily cried. "Is there a problem with that?"

Sirius raised his hand. "Er… how about _it's the middle of the bloody night!_"

"Well you should have thought of that before you invited yourselves inside and started loafing about…"

"_Loafing about?_" James wore an expression of absolute incredulity as he rose to his feet. "Listen, I know this isn't exactly an ideal situation for you, but we just need a bit of time to –"

"Oh, stuff it, Potter." Lily held up a hand to silence him. "I've already heard all this – _We're on the run! We can't be found! _Well, if you're not going to at least give me a decent explanation then I'm sorry, but I don't believe it!"

Her outburst was met with total silence. James was frozen with his mouth hanging wide open and his eyes narrowed in anger. There was something else there, too, and though it took Lily a moment to recognize it, she eventually saw the emotion in his tense face: hurt. He shook his head slowly and then turned his back.

"Fine." His voice was horribly quiet. He glanced over to the other Marauders, who had been looking on in apprehension, and jerked his thumb toward the stairs. "You heard her, let's get going." With purposeful motions, he set his guitar back into its case closed the latch before slinging the strap over his bare shoulder.

A moment later, as though accepting their fate, the others began to stir. Sirius pushed off his sleeping bag with a glare and began shaking Peter, who was still partially asleep. Beside them, Remus stood up and immediately staggered, grabbing onto the edge of the coffee table for support. Lily almost failed to suppress a gasp when she saw the dark circles under his eyes and the pale, sickly hue of his skin – he looked quite unwell.

James, with an air of concern, reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder to steady him. "You alright, mate?" he asked in a low voice.

Remus, who was bent over, gave a response that Lily couldn't make out. Shaking his head slightly, he straightened up.

Suddenly, Lily felt awful. "Wait," she burst out, and James graced her with a cool glance. Strangely, she faltered: "I'm – I'm sorry," she said. "Really, you're welcome to stay in the barn, if you want. And there are plenty of hotels in town – I'm sure they'd be more than willing to take you. I can draw you a map if you'd –"

"We'll be fine." James's voice was curt. "Thanks, anyway, for your hospitality and all that." He turned to face the others. "Come on."

Sirius grabbed his guitar with an easy display of strength and they began to trudge toward the staircase in nothing but the assortment of sweats and T-shirts that Petunia had taken from Bob's wardrobe. It was then that Lily noted James' bare back once more, and felt an odd sense of foreboding in the pit of her stomach.

"Wait!" she called out again, and then bit her lip. All four boys spun around to face her, but it was James who she addressed. "I just… You should at least have a jacket or something. Er… Here." Awkwardly, she pulled the oversized grey hoodie that she had been wearing over her head and tossed it to him.

Eyebrows disappearing into the strands of dark hair covering his forehead, James caught it in one hand. "Thanks," he said, looking vaguely taken aback.

Lily could only watch in silence as they proceeded up the staircase with sloppy, heavy footsteps.

"Bloody mental, that one," she heard Sirius mutter a few seconds later, just as he opened the door. "Where's Twiggie when you need her?"

And then they exited the basement, letting the door fall shut, and that was the last that Lily heard of them.

A few minutes later, she traipsed back up the two flights of stairs and wandered into her bedroom. A pair of bright green eyes pierced her through the darkness, and she started when she perceived Harry perched on the windowsill. Silently, she padded over to his dark outline, reaching out a hand absently to stroke the shiny fur on his back. The cat gave her a sharp glance and then gazed out the window. Following his line of sight, Lily felt her hand go slack mid-stroke. Four silhouettes were distinctly visible trudging toward the back of the yard with defeated slumps to their posture. There was no energy in their step, no conversation occurring among them; they looked like dead men walking.

Feeling the guilty sensation begin to re-emerge, Lily glanced at Harry. He was staring at her with a very pointed, very critical gaze.

"Oh, don't look at me like that!" Lily hissed. Pulling the curtains shut, she tried to ignore the awful feeling gnawing away at her insides and flopped back into bed.

Sleep would not come easily that night.

* * *

The next morning, a peaceful silence settled over the Evans House as the sun's rays began to filter through the clouds. Outside Lily's bedroom window, a butterfly fluttered about in the summer breeze, and inside, the girl slept serenely amidst a pile of fluffy bedding. The air remained soft, quiet and undisturbed, until…

"AHHHHHHHHH!"

A shrill scream blasted the silence to smithereens and Lily woke with a start, tumbling to the floor and whacking her elbow on the corner of her nightstand in the process.

"_Ack!_" With a loud hiss of pain, she twisted her arm around and gave the bruised region a quick once-over. Just as she made to rise to her feet, a murderous screech of epic proportions reverberated through the house, and she winced at the deafening pitch.

"_LILY!_"

Bloody hell, that didn't sound good. She barely had time to contemplate what she might have done wrong, however, when a cacophony of rapid, thudding footsteps met her ears, growing in intensity by the millisecond. Not a moment later, the door to her bedroom flew open and Petunia launched herself through the threshold, looking positively lethal. Lily hadn't even sat up when a set of sharp fingernails dug into her shoulders and she was yanked upright and shaken violently and back and forth.

"What did you _do?_" Petunia screeched, a manic look in her eyes. "_Where did you put them?_"

It was then that the hazy memory of last night's events came well and truly back to Lily, and a pounding ache took up residence in her temples, accompanied by an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. Where were the Marauders now, she wondered? Probably long gone, but it wouldn't do any good to mention that fact to her sister if she valued her life. Instead of answering the question, she groaned, elbowed Petunia in the stomach, and rubbed her eyes. Petunia yelped and rolled onto the ground, where she lay in hysterics.

Dully, Lily rose to her feet and glanced down at her sister, suddenly struck by how utterly pathetic she looked. Biting back the strange feeling of pity rising within her, she looked away. "They're gone, Petunia," she said, and her voice was hollow.

On the carpet, her sister turned her head. Then, she grabbed Lily's ankle and yanked it harshly, pulling her back down to the floor with a thud and a yelp of pain. "_What did you do?_" Petunia demanded again in a low tone that was unsteady with anger. She tightened her grip around Lily's ankle to the point of pain, and then shouted: "WHERE DID THEY GO?"

Lily winced and kicked her foot out of her sister's death grip. "I don't know," she told her, scooting back a few paces on the carpet. "They're gone… I told them to go away." Her voice felt strangely detached. "They won't be coming back."

Petunia let out a wail and rolled over. For a moment, she breathed in and out deeply, pressing her cheek against the carpet. Then, she rose to her feet, and tears were glistening in her eyes. "I hate you, Lily," she spat, and let out a sob. "I HATE you!" And with that she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her with a resounding _bang_.

* * *

The guilty sensation plagued Lily for the rest of the day.

Late morning, she had finally managed to take a shower, and while it had felt absolutely wonderful to wash away the grime from her hair and body, the horrible cocktail of emotions coursing through her veins had remained within her no matter how violently she had scrubbed.

Doing her best to ignore it, she had dressed and descended into the kitchen, where she had promptly inhaled two enormous ham sandwiches and a glass of milk. Unfortunately, the food hadn't sat well in her already twisted stomach, and she'd ended up simply flopping onto the couch miserably and turning on the television. No program held her interest; she wasn't able to concentrate on the images on the screen when she already had a reel of scenes playing on constant repeat across her mind: Remus, pale and sickly, stumbling to his feet; James' face betraying genuine hurt; the four boys retreating across the yard looking so forlorn…

Lily had been trying to convince herself all day that she had done the right thing by sending them away. After all, Petunia had been wrong in the first instance to invite four strange teenage boys into the house – especially after Teresa's strict orders against anything of the sort. Plus, it was wrong of the Marauders to have taken advantage of Petunia's star-struck generosity to the extent that they had. And anyway, whatever trouble they were in with Valentino DeMort… well, Lily felt certain that she did not want to get tangled up in something like that.

Unfortunately, these logical arguments were lost on her irrationally guilty brain.

If Lily was feeling awful, however, it was nothing compared to the state that her sister was in. Petunia had spent almost three hours sobbing in her bedroom. Finally, sometime around noon, she had emerged – her face a mess of snot and tears – and shuffled lifelessly down to the basement. Lily didn't see her for almost an hour, but all the while a tragic harmony of vacuuming, sobbing, and the scuffing of sleeping bags floated up into her ears, and Petunia eventually appeared at the top of the stairs with an armful of pillows, bedding and other discarded items piled so high that they completely obscured her face. Pointedly ignoring Lily, who was finding it impossible to get comfortable on the couch and even more difficult to quash the conflicting emotions inside of her, she sniffed and shuffled off to the laundry room. As she disappeared around the corner, Lily noticed something red slip from under her arm and fall into a dejected heap on the carpet.

Lily's heart twisted painfully in her chest – she would recognize that shirt anywhere. She wasn't sure what made her do it, but barely a second later she was on her feet and had the crumpled garment in her hands. Bob's Griffins T-shirt. The last time she'd seen it, it had been on James Potter's arrogant back, and she'd ordered him to take it off immediately. Now she thought back to last night, when she'd seen that same back retreating, completely bare, into the darkness.

She stared at the T-shirt for a long moment, realizing vaguely that she would never be able to look at it in the same way again. This thought stopped her short, and she considered. Why was this suddenly such a big deal? Less than twenty-four hours ago she'd been dead set on getting rid of the Marauders, and now she'd done it. If anything, she should have been celebrating - or, at the very least, recovering whatever scrap of her summer she could. But now a gloomy haze had descended over the Evans household - she and Petunia were on worse terms than ever, and Lily couldn't shake the feeling that she'd done something perfectly terrible.

There was a tiny coughing noise from the doorway, and Lily dropped the Griffins T-shirt in a hurry. Petunia stood there with her arms folded, and though her glassy eyes were focused somewhere on the wall behind Lily, it was clear that she had something to say.

"What?" Lily said in a monotone.

Petunia swallowed and took a moment to recover her voice. When she spoke, it emerged as a hoarse, choked-up sound. "We should clean up the barn," she said, still refusing to look Lily in the eye. "So Mom and Dad don't get suspicious."

It was obvious that asking for Lily's help was grudgingly painful for Petunia, who had most likely been attempting to give her the silent treatment (she never had been very successful with that particular tactic). Lily could only imagine that once again, her sister's fear of going back to the barn alone had won out over her anger and resentment.

Emotionlessly, she shrugged in a half-hearted accord. "Fine."

Five minutes later, the two of them were traipsing across the green expanse of the yard in total silence. Petunia's hands were clamped so tightly around the handle of her broom that her knuckles had gone a disturbing shade of white, and her mouth was set in a tense line. Lily, on the other hand, might as well have been a robot for the blandness of her stare and the autopilot-like quality of her movement.

As the barn loomed nearer, both girls slowed their pace slightly. The decrepit structure stood eerily against the early evening sky; it looked like something out of a horror film. Lily realized that, like Bob's T-shirt, the ramshackle wooden building was yet another thing that would never again be quite the same in her mind. In fact, as they drew closer, she could have sworn she heard echoes of the voices that had first drawn her and Petunia toward its mysterious silhouette all those nights ago.

Another few paces, and Lily stopped cold. Masculine tones of conversation were being carried over in the light wind, and the sense of déjà-vu was overwhelming. Her stomach dropped.

_They were still here_.

Before she had time to react to this revelation, Petunia let out a triumphant yelp and broke into a full-on sprint.

It took a few seconds for Lily to gather her bearings. After a confusing succession of panic, irritation and—strangest of all—relief shot through her, she unfroze and began to traipse toward the barn door. There, she was met with a most peculiar sight: James detaching himself from a squealing, hyperventilating Petunia; Remus, asleep on a bale of hay in the corner; Sirius doing chin-ups on one of the barn rafters; and Peter, hands gone slack on James' guitar, gawping at the new arrivals. It occurred to Lily that she must be mirroring his expression exactly, and so she snapped her jaw shut and tried to compose herself.

She turned to Petunia first, grabbing her sister by the wrist and yanking her away from James, who looked downright frightened. Petunia protested, but her strength was no match for Lily's, and after a moment she seemed to realize what a lunatic she was being and simply stood back, smiling sheepishly at James.

Next, Lily addressed Sirius, whose acrobatic endeavours were causing the barn to creak with alarming volume. "That's going to break, you know," she told him matter-of-factly.

He looked up at the support beam and then grinned down at her. "You calling me fat, Lulu?"

"Yep," said Lily.

Sirius gave a short chuckle and let go of the beam, landing with a light _thud_ on the dirt floor.

After that, there was silence. The others were all watching Lily warily, seemingly waiting for her to speak again. Lily wasn't exactly sure what to say. Now that she saw them all here, the irritation she'd come to associate with the sight of their faces began to creep back under her skin. She glanced over at James, only to find him staring back with an unidentifiable look in his hazel eyes. Inexplicably, the guilty sensation returned and her emotions clashed once more.

"I thought you'd gone!" The tense silence was finally shattered by Petunia's frenzied outburst. She looked to be on the verge of tears.

"We had." James acknowledged her statement, but it was Lily who his eyes were focused on. "Remus wasn't feeling up to walking anywhere so we thought we'd wait it out here – head off when he was feeling better."

Inside, Lily cringed in something resembling shame; her actions were coming back to her in a new and horrible light. What had she been thinking, kicking the Marauders out in the middle of the night when one of them was ill? Their arrogance was one thing, but what she had done was just plain cruel.

"Head off?" Again, Petunia spoke, and her voice was mildly hysterical. She glanced around at the boys frantically. "That's ridiculous! Get your things. You're all coming back inside—right_, Lily_?"

There was no question in her words as she stared her sister down, but Lily wasn't quite ready to give in entirely.

"Not so fast," she said, glaring at Petunia. She might have felt guilty for being heartless earlier, but she wouldn't have been so irritable in the first place if she hadn't been so completely stir-crazy. Inviting them back inside would only start the cycle all over again. When Petunia opened her mouth and looked as though she might start screaming, Lily quickly elaborated. "Not _yet_," she said forcefully. She turned to address the three conscious Marauders, who were glancing uneasily at one another. "Look, you can stay in here as long as you need to," she said, inadvertently looking over at Remus' sleeping form, "but I don't think it's a good idea for you to come back inside—at least, not until you explain yourselves properly. We still don't really know what we're hiding you from."

The Marauders settled a little bit, apparently considering her proposal. Petunia, on the other hand, was enraged.

"_What?_" she shrieked. "What are you talking about? They're on the run! From that DeMart guy or whatever. What else could you possibly need to know?"

Even the Marauders looked sceptical at this, and Petunia shrank back into the barn wall as four sets of eyes bored into her.

Finally, Lily broke the awkward silence. "We should go back and start dinner, Petunia," she said, and her sister looked relieved to have the focus shifted away from her. With great difficulty, Lily turned her head toward the Marauders. "Is there, er, anything in particular that you lot want to eat?"

Everyone, even Petunia, raised their eyebrows at this unexpected peace offering. Lily did her best to avoid James' gaze, but she could still feel it burning into her, quizzical and appraising.

Sirius was the first to recover. "Pizza!" he enthused rather loudly.

Longingly, Peter groaned. "I'd about kill for a nice deep dish pepperoni right now," he said, and James nodded, showing his accord.

"Pizza it is, then," Lily announced cheerfully, suddenly giddy at the idea of biting into a nice, greasy slice – she couldn't even remember the last time she'd been allowed to enjoy its cheesy goodness.

Petunia, however, looked strangely petrified. "Pizza?" she queried in a small, strangled voice.

"What, afraid of ruining your diet or something?" Sirius chuckled at this, clearly unable to fathom why such a bony girl would have any need to watch her weight.

Petunia shot him a glare. "Just because _some of us _have the sense to respect our bodies…"

"Respect?" Sirius repeated. "More like neglect – no offense, Twiggie, but I reckon you could do with a pizza. Or twenty."

Petunia's face morphed into a hideous glower. She narrowed her eyes in his direction. "Please, say that again once you've turned thirty, gained five stone and suffered a heart attack."

Sirius looked incredulous. "Your loss," he finally said. "You can go munch on a leaf or something and we'll just sit here with a nice, big, pepperoni pizza... Right, Prongs?"

James smirked, but before he could say anything, Petunia cut in.

"James doesn't like pizza," she blurted.

James looked confused; Sirius, meanwhile, snorted. "And what would _you_ know about Prongsie's eating habits, Twiggie?" Despite his joking tone, there was a sort of challenge in his eyes as he said it, as though he was daring Petunia to prove she knew James better than he did.

Petunia coughed. "I read it in Quibla—June edition. James, you said you didn't like pizza because it's bad for your health, remember?"

Sirius burst into uncontrollable laughter, his booming voice reverberating off the walls. James glanced awkwardly around the barn, his eyes landing once or twice on Lily. "Er, well, I sort of only said that... you know, because they asked me to. To give the band a good image and everything."

He winced as he said this, and waited cautiously for the girls to react. Petunia looked crestfallen; Lily felt a strange sort of satisfaction.

"Well, now that that's cleared up, we'd best go order those," she said, grabbing her sister by the elbow. "Come on, Petunia. We'll get you a vegetarian or something."

* * *

The pizzas arrived in what was probably record time, and Lily ended up using a sizeable chunk of the "Emergency Money" that Bob and Teresa had left with Petunia to pay for them. She decided it was well worth it, however, when she opened one of the boxes and breathed in the deliciously wonderful smell of cheese and pepperoni; being deprived of pizza for so long certainly constituted an emergency in Lily's books, though she doubted Petunia would agree. Her sister had taken one disgusted look at the boxes before fleeing to her bedroom with a bowlful of salad and a Vitamin Water. Lily could only speculate as to what was going through Petunia's head during this time, but she suspected that James' little confession regarding his eating habits had been a strong blow to the perfect image her sister had built up of the Marauder in her mind. Most likely, her dreams of bonding over sushi and tofu had been crushed, and Lily was quite certain that Petunia was currently fretting over how she and James would coordinate their opposing diets once they were married.

"Petunia!" Lily called up the stairs. "I'm going back to the barn now."

She waited for a reply, and wasn't entirely surprised when the air remained silent. Carefully, she picked up all three pizzas and stacked them against her chest. "Are you really going to make me carry all these myself?" she shouted, louder this time.

Still nothing.

With a sigh, Lily turned and wrangled the door open, leaving Petunia to her moping. There was no point in wasting her energy; apparently, Marauders or not, Petunia wouldn't set foot anywhere within twenty feet of a box of pizza.

The moon was full in the sky, casting a soft blue light on the field as Lily trekked out to the barn. The air was pleasantly warm, and the scent of the pizzas in her arms made Lily fall into such a deep, food-driven trance that she almost forgot who she was taking them to. She barely even realized when she reached the barn door and several sets of eager hands quickly relieved her of the pizza boxes.

"Thanks, Firecracker—you're the best!" said James, who'd already opened the pepperoni box and was biting into his first slice. Sirius was devouring a Nimbus 2000, the most extravagant array of toppings that Gryffindale's only local pizza store had to offer, while Peter had opened a box only to find the promised vegetarian pizza inside, complete with mushrooms, onions and green peppers. His face fell momentarily, but then he shrugged and stuffed a slice greedily into his mouth. Lily stood by and watched them as they ate, looks of pure joy evident on their faces. A strange sort of satisfaction filled her, especially as Remus sat up and gladly accepted the slice that James offered him.

Lily cleared her throat awkwardly, and a couple of the Marauders gave her their attention. "I'll just be going now," she said. "Er, if you need anything else, just... Well, knock on the door or something, I guess." She turned to leave, but James' voice stopped her.

"Wait! Aren't you going to stay?"

Lily bit her lip. "Stay?"

"Well, yeah." James coughed. He held the pepperoni pizza box out to her. "I figured you'd want some of this."

He was right about that, Lily thought, but she could hardly bring herself to stay here and eat dinner with the Marauders, least of all without Petunia here to keep everybody entertained (and annoyed). Still, that pizza looked awfully good, and she'd hate for that git James Potter to have it all to himself...

Finally, she shrugged. "Alright, I guess I will." With that, she strode forward and pulled two large slices of pizza out of the box in James' hands, perched herself on the edge of the farthest hay bale and sank her teeth into the cheesy goodness. It was heaven—all that delicious pepperoni, all that cheese, all that grease... It was exactly the sort of thing Teresa would have thrown out the window the minute it graced their threshold.

"Where's Twiggie?" Sirius queried through a sloppy mouthful of toppings.

Lily, surprised that he'd asked, gave a grim sort of shrug. "Hiding from the pizza, I imagine," she said. "Probably thinks you can inhale the calories or something…"

"Ahem." A tiny cough came suddenly from the doorway, and Lily paused mid-bite to see her sister's blonde head sticking through the crack. Petunia looked terrified as her eyes shifted around the barn uneasily, coming to rest on the open boxes of pizza. Finally, with a tremendous gulp, she shuffled inside. "Hi," she squeaked.

"Want some?" Sirius offered, shoving the Nimbus 2000 in her face. When she squealed and jumped over a hay bale to get away from it, he let out a booming laugh. "Seriously, you're mental. This stuff is _life_." He savagely tore off another bite, causing Petunia to grimace in disgust.

"No, that's like death in a box," she corrected.

"Nomflensh!" said Sirius through a giant mouthful of pizza. "Ah' fo' foogrmphs in wuh plafe! Wha'more could-joo wah?"

"Some manners, maybe," replied Petunia, wrinkling her nose. The smell, Lily could see, was causing her sister extreme discomfort; she was barely breathing at all. Lily would love to see somebody force feed her a slice of Nimbus 2000, but there was no way Petunia was touching any one of the pizzas unless...

"Come on, you've got to try one slice, at least."

At the sound of James' voice, Petunia whipped as though an elastic band had been released. He'd just grabbed the vegetarian out of Peter's hands, leaving the pudgy Marauder looking pathetically indignant with tomato sauce all over his face and crust hanging out of his mouth, and now held it out to Petunia. She looked utterly at war with herself; her eye twitched a couple of times, and her hands balled up into fists as her morals waged war with one another. At last, she relaxed slightly, stepped forward, and said, "Well, one slice couldn't hurt..."

With trepid fingers, Petunia reached out and pulled a slice free. Lily almost laughed when half the cheese from the adjacent slice came off with it, at which point Petunia squeaked. She wasted no time, however, in strolling over to the corner, pulling off every last scrap of cheese, and dropping it onto Lily's pizza. Lily, was used to being the recipient of Petunia's scraps, shrugged, picked it up and dropped it into her mouth. Petunia, who was watching, failed to suppress a shudder.

"You know, that hardly counts as pizza now," Sirius pointed out, eyeing the baren, tomato-sauce-smeared piece of crust in Petunia's hand.

Blatantly ignoring him, Petunia lifted it to her mouth and managed a little nibble, eyes glued to James all the while. For a few moments, no one spoke, and the six teenagers ate their pizza in silence. Somehow, Sirius had almost polished off the entire Nimbus 2000, and he was patting his stomach happily. Peter was still munching away on the vegetarian, and between James, Lily and Remus, the pepperoni had quickly disappeared. Finally, there was a slight cough from James' direction and he broke the silence.

"Listen," he said, addressing Lily and Petunia. "We were having a bit of a talk, and we decided that… well, we decided you deserve to know the truth. Er, that is, if you want to hear it."

At this, Lily snapped up; he had her full attention. "Go on."

James and Sirius exchanged glances. "How much do you know?" Sirius asked them.

"Not much," Lily admitted. "We heard a news story about the Val-Mart opening ceremony; apparently DeMort was pretty brassed off that you didn't show."

At this, the Sirius hissed, James clenched his jaw and Peter looked frightened. "Val was the one who got us started as a band," James confessed bitterly. "He loaned us money, payed for media exposure, studio time – all that sort of stuff."

"We were kind of idiots back then," Sirius added. "Thought he was just being generous—but there're always strings attached with Val. We should've known."

James nodded very seriously. "Once he'd gotten us on our feet, we asked if there was anything we could do in return. He just sort of laughed at us—turns out anyone who gets anything from Val DeMort is automatically in debt to him for the rest of their lives."

There was momentary silence, in which the barn seemed to grow colder. Lily shivered. "In debt—how do you mean?"

"He wanted our endorsement," Remus explained in a tired voice. "Basically, we had to publically support everything that DeMort Enterprises stands for."

"Like a walking advertisement," Sirius put in bitterly.

"We didn't really know all about it back then, to be honest," said James. "We just knew he was some sort of business tycoon—so we figured it wasn't that much of a problem. We got along okay for a couple of years, until we realized just how bad it was."

"But you still went along with it for years after that," Lily couldn't help but mention. If the Marauders had learned the truth when James claimed they had, then that meant at least three years had gone by in which they'd done nothing about it, simply continuing to support Val DeMort. Lily couldn't fathom why.

When James turned to look at her, his eyes were fiercely imploring—even a little angry. "You have to understand, we really wanted to ditch DeMort altogether—but we couldn't. We'd gotten ourselves into a huge—"

"Pickle?" Peter offered, desperate to contribute something to the conversation.

"Yeah, only it was a lot bigger than that," said James, his eyebrows drawing together.

"Cucumber?" Peter suggested.

"Shut up, Pete," said Sirius, smacking his bandmate on the back of the head.

"Anyway," said James, "the point is, there was no way out. Once you become an endorser, you stay an endorser... until you die."

An eerie silence fell over them; Lily fidgeted uncomfortably before voicing her scepticism. "Isn't that pushing it a little?" she asked. "I mean, no offense, it's just... DeMort's only human. There must be some way to... I dunno, slip past unnoticed? It's not like he kills _everyone _who gets in his way..."

James shook his head impatiently. "Look, you don't understand. He's a maniac. He's got followers _everywhere_, and believe it or not, anywhere you go, he'll find you. And he doesn't let go of grudges easily."

Lily couldn't argue with that. After all, she'd been personally opposed to DeMort's ways for years, and knew from what she'd read and seen on TV just how heartless he could be.

"So what made you ditch, then?" she asked. "At the grand opening, I mean."

Sirius chuckled darkly. "Oh, I don't know. Why _didn't_ we play at the grand opening of the apocalypse?"

"It was too much," Remus agreed. "There was already so much opposition to the Val-Mart franchise, and if we'd shown our faces there, told everyone we supported the cause—we'd have been pretty much done for as musicians after a couple of years."

"Plus," said James, "if we got tangled up in Val's biggest scheme yet, you can imagine, we'd only be digging ourselves deeper into the whole mess. We had to get out."

"So what happens now?" asked Lily, afraid to hear the answer. "What happens if he finds you?"

The Marauders—all except Peter, who was gazing absently at the roof with his mouth hanging wide open—looked at one another solemnly.

"It's hard to say," James finally answered, looking at Lily with such a defeated look in his eyes that a pang of pity struck her painfully in the stomach. "He could just force us back into the deal, but that would be letting us off easy. He might try to enslave us or something, or... or he could just deal with us the usual way."

Nobody spoke for a long moment after that as everyone digested the information that had just been laid out on the table. Lily felt an overwhelming sense of fear for the Marauders, even though, up until very recently, she'd harboured the same sort of resentment toward them as she did toward Val himself. But if they were telling the truth, then they'd never intended to get mixed up in that sort of business—and, she realized, had been even braver than she'd thought in running away from it.

While Lily mulled it over, Petunia sat beside her with tears in her eyes, looking at James with enormous amounts of adoration and sympathy.

"That's horrible!" she cried. "Why would anyone want to... to kill you?"

"Absolutely no idea," said Sirius through gritted teeth. "Did you even _hear_ anything we just said?"

Petunia ignored him and continued to gaze at James, who was tactfully avoiding her eye. "I just don't understand," she whimpered. "You're such a _good_ person..."

"Um, hello?" said Sirius. "There are four of us here! The Marauders aren't a one man show, in case you haven't noticed—we're all going to die if DeMort finds us. Fuck, Twiggie! Get that into your head!"

While Petunia finally acknowledged Sirius with a glare, Lily sat silently and contemplated the situation. Practicality wanted her to come up with a solution to the problem, but this one wasn't quite so easily solved. For now, she knew—as much as she hated to do it—there was only one thing that could be done.

"Well, you held up your end of the bargain," Lily announced as she stood up. "I suppose you can come back inside now, if you like."

Petunia perked right up at that, and began to jump up and down with glee.

The Marauders shared a look.

"Are you sure?" James asked. "We don't want to be an inconvenience, really..."

Lily shook her head. "A deal's a deal. I'm not saying I'll enjoy it, but it's not all that much trouble. Just... stay out of Mom and Dad's room and you're fine."

Petunia squealed and bounded out the door with an excited exclamation of "I'll go set up the sleeping bags!" trailing in her wake.

Lily looked back at the Marauders, who were looking at her curiously.

"What?" she demanded. "What's your problem now?"

"You're not just going to kick us out again, are you?" James asked.

"Why the hell would you ask that? Do you _want_ me to change my mind?"

"Just checking," he assured her. "It's just, you've been a bit bonkers over the last twenty-four hours, and we don't want to risk the walk if you're just going to send us back." He was grinning by the time he finished the sentence, and so Lily simply rolled her eyes and turned around.

"Wait!"

This time, it was Sirius. Lily swung around to face him, raising her eyebrows.

"You're not going to turn us into DeMort, are you?" he asked suspiciously. "Because I hear he offers some pretty sweet cash rewards for stuff like this."

Lily was appalled. "You're mad," she declared. "If you're going to be staying under my roof, we're going to have to get one thing straight—I hate Val DeMort just as much as you lot do."

James grinned at her. "Well, that settles it. We're going to make great friends."

Lily sighed and turned her back on him, making to exit the barn. "Not so fast, Potter. I said you could come back inside—I never said anything about _friends_." With that, she stepped outside—wondering, for the billionth time since the Marauders had arrived, just what she was getting herself into.

* * *

Later that evening, the six of them were sprawled about the living room, mostly content to simply bask in the feeling of lethargy that inevitably followed a big meal. The Marauders were spread out across the sofa and a couple of beanbag chairs, lounging in that careless manner typical of teenage boys, while Lily was curled up in the comfort of Bob's recliner. Petunia, however, stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the lazy tranquillity – she was sitting ramrod straight on the edge of the couch, leg jiggling up and down as her eyes practically burned a hole in the Dance Dance Revolution box sitting on their TV stand.

"Petunia, would you please spare us and just do your sodding exercise?"

At the sound of Lily's voice, Petunia jumped. She made a face in response, but she seemed to be considering her sister's proposition; her eyes slid sideways again toward the dance game, and Lily fought the urge to roll her own eyes. Her sister's diet and exercise compulsions were bordering on unhealthy, and she knew how much it must have been killing her to laze about after consuming something as stereotypically fattening as pizza.

Petunia did nothing but confirm these suspicions when she finally caved in a moment later, leaping off the sofa and lunging for the box without a word.

The flurry of movement roused Peter, who lifted his head a little. He squinted at the game, wearing an odd sort of expression on his face. "Is that DDR?"

Petunia, who was untangling the controllers, barely looked at him. "Yeah," she muttered offhandedly, unfurling the mat and positioning it on the carpet.

"Not that dancing game?" It was James who spoke this time, and Petunia's reaction was a complete one-eighty from the one she had just displayed. She ceased her actions completely, snapped her head in his direction, and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder a little.

"Have you ever played it?" she asked eagerly.

James smirked, and Lily felt her hackles rise a bit at the infuriating expression. "They sent us about ten copies after we agreed to let them use _Mischief Managed _as one of the songs. Played it a few times on tour – Management told Pete to have a go at it to lose a few pounds."

"Thanks for sharing that," Peter muttered irritably.

"_Mischief Managed _is my favourite!" Petunia gushed, totally ignoring Peter's comment. "I play it _all _the time!"

"She's obsessed," Lily tossed in blandly from the corner. And it was true: Petunia had spent hours upon hours memorizing every single step to the Marauders' hit song. Lily often felt that if she heard the lyrics "_I solemnly swear I am up to no good_" one more time, she might throttle someone.

And so of course, when the game started up and Petunia began flicking through the list of songs, she skipped over the first half in a fluid motion of the controller and promptly settled on a block of text that read: _Mischief Managed – The Marauders_.

Lily groaned loudly, but Petunia ignored her. She readjusted her sweater, tucked her hair behind her ears, and used her foot to tap the start button on the dance mat. _"Good choice!" _exclaimed the game appraisingly.

"Thanks!" Petunia replied in a cheery tone, shooting James a wink over her shoulder. Lily rolled her eyes.

Having the Marauders in her living room might have been a dream come true for Petunia, but once those multicoloured arrows started zooming across the television screen, the rest of the room's occupants might as well have been houseflies for all the attention she paid them. Lily decided after some thought that this perhaps wasn't the best analogy where Petunia was concerned, considering her vendetta against all things with more than two legs. Still, her eyes were fixed so intently on the screen and she was concentrating so hard on stepping in the correct patterns that, even if there were a thousand houseflies in the room, she wouldn't have noticed. Lily had no idea how she did it; the screen was a mess of arrows to her, all jumbled together and so confusing that she wouldn't even know where to step first. Petunia, on the other hand, read them as Lily would read a book—and despite her lack of muscle could move her legs at the speed of light, and with the accuracy of a practiced archer. To be perfectly honest, though, Lily didn't find the ability to step on arrows particularly enviable or impressive.

Apparently, neither did James. He became quickly distracted, picking at a loose thread on the sofa, staring absently at the ceiling, whistling to himself, tapping out various beats with his foot. Petunia would have been furious if she'd turned around, both at the destruction of the furniture and the fact that her key audience member wasn't even watching the show she was putting on for him. Luckily, there was no way her eyes were coming unstuck from that screen until the song was over.

Petunia finished with a near-perfect score, after missing a couple of arrows when Sirius shouted out at random, "A hundred pounds I'd whoop your butt at this!" and letting out a monstrous growl when she did. (This happened to be the only point at which James acknowledged her at all, smirking at her fury and exchanging a fist bump with Sirius.)

When the score came up and a giant "AA" flashed across the screen, Petunia whipped around furiously.

"Just so you know, I've gotten a full combo on this song _seven times_." This was mainly directed at Sirius, who simply raised his eyebrows and shrugged. Petunia turned next to James, her face softening. "Mischief Managed is like, _easily_ the best song on here. Want to have a go? We can play together." She indicated the extra mat tucked away under the TV stand and gave him a winning smile. Lily almost gagged.

Before James could answer, however, Sirius spoke up.

"Scared of versing the master, are you?" he said. The challenge conveyed in his words was palpable. "You're just preying on Prongsie because he sucks. Let me have a go."

Petunia's eyes narrowed and her every feature stiffened, though she refused to look away from James. Clearly, she was torn between her competitive nature and her obsession with James; eventually, however, she turned to look at Sirius and said, "Fine. But don't think you're going to beat me."

Sirius leapt up out of his bean bag chair and started doing a couple of ridiculous warm-up exercises while Petunia set up the second mat.

"No, really, Black," Lily felt the need to put in, "don't get your hopes up. She plays this thing like twenty-four seven. Thinks she's going to the Olympics for it or something."

Petunia, who'd just plugged in the extra controller, spared Lily a glare before standing up and getting her head back in the game.

"Alright," she said curtly, nodding at her opponent as though they were about to do serious business. "Mischief Managed again, I presume?"

"Yeah," said Sirius, his eyes turning into slits, "but this time I reckon we should do it on expert—you know, unless you're too scared."

Petunia's eyes widened briefly, but she simply nodded again. "Fine. It's no difference to me." With a few taps on the controller, she made the necessary changes, but hesitated before pressing the start button, glancing distastefully at her opponent. "Make sure you don't go too hard on the mat," she told him. "They break really easily."

Sirius looked outraged. "What's with all the bleeding fat jokes today?" he burst out.

"Oh shut it, you know that's not what I meant." Petunia rolled her eyes. "Just don't break my mat, or I'll kick your fat butt."

The arrows began to race across the screen at a dizzying speed, and a flurry of heavy footsteps on plastic filled the room as the two dancers started to battle it out. Sirius was surprisingly good – his score remained pretty much on par with Petunia's. What was hilarious, however, was how blatantly different their strategies were. While Petunia's movements were calculated and stiff in their learned precision, Sirius' were wild and sloppy. He flung his feet across the mat in some demented sort of jitterbug, limbs flying everywhere like an out-of-control whirlwind. It looked as though he was failing dismally, and yet somehow he hit every note with perfect accuracy. It was quite a show—Peter gaped, James stopped whistling, Remus opened his eyes, and even Lily found herself strangely engrossed in the match, mostly just praying that Sirius would beat Petunia and give her ego that little pin prick it had been needing for so long.

Sadly, though their scores were very close indeed, Petunia came away victorious.

"HA!" she exclaimed, pointing a finger into Sirius' face. "Beaten at your own song!"

"You got to warm up," Sirius huffed, looking infuriated. "I demand a rematch!"

Petunia preened, adjusting her charm bracelet and flattening her hair. "Oh, don't be such a poor sport," she replied airily, oblivious to the utter hypocrisy of this statement. "If anything, I was at a disadvantage. _You _hadn't just played through an entire song – it's tiring, you know."

Sirius shot her a scowl, crossing his arms. "Oh, put a cork in it."

Petunia glared. "Sore loser."

"Gloater."

"Are you two finished?" James broke in, sounding slightly weary. The feuding pair shut their mouths and glared daggers at one another.

After an instant, Petunia recomposed herself, allowing her expression to soften. "Did you want to play a round?" she asked James, sounding hopeful.

James coughed. "I don't think I'm quite… up to your level, Petunia – but maybe against somebody else…" He caught Lily's eye from across the room, and she froze. "You up for it, Firecracker?"

Petunia's expression morphed from one of utter shock to looking as though she'd swallowed a lemon. Finally, after a few moments of shell-shocked silence, she seemed to regain her power of speech. "Lily doesn't want to play, do you, Lily?" she bit out, talking through gritted teeth.

Lily really didn't – but she wasn't about to let Petunia order her around, and so she stuck a phony smile on her face and said: "Sure I do."

Shooting a glare at her sister, Petunia began flailing about, obviously grasping at straws. "Wouldn't somebody else would rather have a turn?" she demanded. Her eyes flicked around the room desperately. "Remus?"

The pale Marauder lifted his head and grimaced. "Sorry, guys, I'm really not feeling up for it. You go ahead."

Petunia turned anxiously to her last hope, who was reclining lazily in his beanbag chair. "…Peter?"

The boy considered. "Yeah, I'll give it a g–" He suddenly became aware of the _shut your mouth _expression on James' face. "Er… actually, I don't really feel like it. Sorry."

Looking utterly frustrated, Petunia drew in a breath. "Fine," she spat, stepping out of the way so that James and Lily could take the stage.

Suddenly, Lily wondered what on Earth she had just gotten herself into. She padded over to one of the mats and felt her body go tense when James appeared beside her. Glancing over at his profile, she cleared her throat.

"Fair warning," she began in a murmur, "I'm terrible at this game."

James looked somewhat astonished to hear her speak in a tone that wasn't laced with hostility. He raised his eyebrows. "Trust me; you can't be as bad as I am."

"Oh, believe me," Lily returned grimly. "I can be."

"Prongs, Lulu, say hi!" Sirius' voice rang out suddenly from behind. Lily whipped around and found herself staring directly into the circular lens of a tiny video camera, which Sirius was holding in one hand.

James groaned. "Really, Sirius?"

"Where the hell did you get that?" Lily gaped incredulously at the tiny flashing red light in the corner.

"Just bought it from the gift shop in your kitchen," Sirius drawled sarcastically. He rolled his eyes. "Relax, Lulu; I've had it with me all along. Fits nicely in my pocket."

"For the last time, Black, it's _Lily_," was her exasperated response.

"Ignore him," advised James, shaking his head. "He's got this weird obsession with getting everything on film. You get used to it after a while."

Lily lifted her brow. "Right."

Sirius continued to film as they selected a slow-paced song that Petunia assured them was the easiest one available and set the difficulty level to basic.

"You ready?" James queried, glancing over at Lily.

She wrinkled her nose. "Nope."

"_Relax!_" The game said cheerfully as the introduction started to play. _"I believe in you!_"

At this, Lily heard a loud snort from Petunia's general vicinity. Ignoring her, she put all of her concentration into watching the little arrows that were floating up the screen. Petunia was right – the song was much slower than Mischief Managed, and she surprised herself by managing to hit the first few steps somewhat accurately. Unfortunately, the tempo picked up significantly soon after this, and suddenly the arrows were an all-too-familiar jumble of gibberish. Lily moved her feet frantically, hoping that by some miracle she might be striking a couple of correct spots here and there. In between crazy footfalls, she snuck a quick glance at the score and saw that James was beating her by a fair margin. This—coupled with Petunia's derisive giggles—made Lily inexplicably angry, and so she made every effort possible to hit the remainder of the notes.

Unfortunately, this newfound determination was her downfall—literally. Her feet became so tangled up as she desperately tried to step on every arrow that, by the time she reached the final bar of the song and the last note struck with dramatic finality, she lost her balance completely and toppled over. She landed sprawled across a plasticky surface and heard various noises erupt from behind her—high-pitched cackling from Petunia, a triumphant cheer from Sirius, and an exclamation of "Aww! No!" from James, who was standing right above her.

Right... above her?

Lily looked up to find James smirking and holding out a hand; humiliation spread through her as she realized exactly where she had landed, and she rolled over quickly, ignoring his hand, and jumped to her feet.

"Thanks a lot for ruining my combo, Firecracker," he said, grinning at her.

"All part of my strategy," she said dully, dusting off her jeans. "'Sides, you still won."

Shrugging, James cocked his head toward the television screen, which was now flashing their scores. "Yeah, but we both got D's."

"That was bloody pathetic," Sirius announced, shaking his head. "Most half-arsed DDR-ing I've ever seen."

"Like you can talk, Black," spat Petunia, who was eyeing up Lily and James' exchange distastefully. "James is better than you. You just broke the mat, that's why he got a D."

"Er, actually, I was playing on your mat...," said James, indicating the bright pink "Property of Petunia Evans" sticker in the corner of his controller. Lily couldn't help but laugh out loud at this.

Petunia's eyes bulged. After standing there for several seconds, looking as though she might implode at any moment, she muttered, "My mistake," in the squeakiest voice Lily had ever heard before trudging stiffly out of the living room.

"Well, that was a blast," said James when she had gone.

"Yeah," agreed Lily, "you guys got off easy."

"Wanna know the best part?" asked Sirius, grinning from ear to ear.

Lily raised an eyebrow; Sirius looked positively evil as he pointed at the little silver camcorder perched on the mantelpiece.

"I got it all on camera."

**

* * *

**

A/N:

If the disclaimer at the beginning of the chapter wasn't indicator enough, we feel absolutely terrible for leaving you so long without an update. We should really save the excuses, but this time they're actually valid, so here goes: We started writing Starstruck during the summer, when we had scads of free time to devote to our fanfiction ventures. We plotted the whole thing out, got all excited and even made a schedule for uploading each chapter. According to this schedule, which has lain neglected on Liz's desk for many months, we were supposed to have finished all twenty slated chapters by November 12th. Well, guess what? It didn't quite work out that way. (No, really? I hadn't noticed...) Because after three months of summer vacation and four blissful chapters of Starstruck, we suddenly found ourselves swamped with school, juggling part-time jobs and figure skating, and generally having no time at all. So instead of giving you all the update that you've been begging and threatening for, one of us was serving coffee and doughnuts while the other was lugging heavy mugs out of a giant freezer and dealing with angry customers who think the Spicy Mama Burger is a ploy to steal all their money.

Anyway, since it's finally winter break, we decided it was high time that we get our butts into gear and churn out the next chapter. So MERRY CHRISTMAS! Here you have it: the longest chapter yet. Aren't you proud of us? No? You don't sympathize at all? Well... we can't blame you. We would hate us, too.

If you do hate us, make sure to tell us so in a review! And if, by some crazy miracle, you don't... Well, review anyway!

A good day to you!

Sinseerlie,

Liz and Sam

(_Seven Scribbles_)


	6. Lupus

**Disclaimer: **Pencil crayon. Post-It. Tylenol. Scissors. Yes, in our attempts to think of a witty disclaimer, we've started picking up random objects for inspiration. It's a good thing we don't actually own Harry Potter or it would have been incredibly unimaginative.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Lupus

* * *

The next three days saw a new pattern begin to slowly establish itself in the Evans household. The awkwardness of sharing a house with four boys dissipated surprisingly quickly, probably owing to the fact that the two parties spent a lot of time apart. Lily had to give their unlikely house guests credit—for all their obnoxiousness, they certainly knew how to give their hosts space and were surprisingly polite for the most part, often staying in their basement confines for large portions of the day.

Life had taken on a certain stagnant quality in the heat of the summer. A lot of time was spent playing video games, eating and generally accomplishing nothing. Lily joined the odd PlayStation session (mostly at James' request) but preferred to spend her days in the backyard, curled up on the soft grass with her nose in a book. Petunia, however, clung to the Marauders in a fashion that could only be described as suffocating. She seemed to feel as though any time not spent in their presence was a complete waste of life, and had developed a habit of camping out by various registers around the house when her idols retreated to the basement for some "alone time".

It was strange, Lily sometimes mused, how quickly one could adapt to such a completely insane situation. If someone had told her a couple of weeks ago that the Marauders would soon be living in her house, she would have laughed in their face (and then maybe felt a little nauseous at the actual concept). Right now, however, it felt as though she was living in some sort of a weird, alternate universe.

Tuesday morning started off in much the same way as its predecessors. Lily, already dressed and showered, was standing in the kitchen, spatula in hand, labouring over a pan of scrambled eggs. On another burner, bacon sizzled and spewed.

"That smells foul," was Petunia's lifeless morning greeting as she shuffled into the kitchen, looking slightly bleary-eyed as she pushed a hand sleepily through her blonde bangs.

Lily glanced sideways at her sister's lethargic figure. "Up all night listening to James snore through the register again, were you?" she shot back in a tone that was almost bored.

Petunia narrowed her eyes as she switched on the coffee maker. "I told you, I thought I dropped an earring into it."

"Right." Lily's eyebrow raise was directed not at her sister, but at the scalding pan in front of her. "Mum and Dad might call today," she noted, changing the subject as she shuffled the eggs around one last time and switched the burner off. It had been a couple of days since Bob and Teresa's last phone call, which had caught them completely off guard. This time, they wanted to be prepared.

"What's our story?" Petunia asked, glancing up as she poured granola into a pink bowl.

"I was feeling a lot better yesterday so we cleaned up our rooms, and today, we plan on... baking cookies? I dunno." Lily shrugged, prodding a piece of bacon and deciding that it was fully cooked. "What do you think?"

"Sounds good," Petunia agreed, and then suddenly jumped back as though she had been given an electric shock, dragging her bowl with her. "Jeez, Lily! A little warning, please!"

Lily, who had been draining the grease from the bacon, shot her sister a look of complete incredulity. "Petunia, I'm on the o_ther side of the kitchen_. It can't splash that far."

"You don't know that," Petunia muttered, checking her clothes for oil stains and then peering inside of her bowl to ensure that her breakfast had not been contaminated.

Predictably, it was at that very moment that a loud shout of "BACON!" resounded through the kitchen and the basement door burst open, revealing Sirius' gleeful face.

James emerged a second later, pulling at the hem of his T-shirt and tousling his already sleep-worn hair as he squinted sullenly in Sirius' direction. "Inside voice," he groaned. "Please."

But Sirius had already flung himself onto one of the bar stools at the Evans' counter, eyeing the bacon affectionately as Lily began heaping it onto plates. James followed suit, looking distinctively less awake than Sirius as he collapsed onto the stool beside him. "Morning," he greeted the girls with a lazy lift of his head.

Lily caught his eye and was about to respond when Petunia suddenly cut in front of her. "Good morning, James!" she addressed him cheerfully. She wasted no time at all in grabbing her coffee and her breakfast and plonking herself down in the seat next to him, the bowl hitting the countertop with a loud _clink_ as she did so.

Lily, who for the thousandth time wondered when Petunia would tire of this whole charade, sighed and picked up a couple of plates. "Here, before you wet yourself..." She set one in front of Sirius, who immediately shoved about five pieces of bacon into his mouth at once. "Sherioufshly Lulu, you're the besht!" was his sloppy expression of gratitude.

James gave a small smile as he received his breakfast. "Thanks, Firecracker."

"Is there any more bacon?" Sirius queried immediately, looking slightly forlorn as he stared at the bare spot on his plate.

"What—How?—You ate it _all_ already?" Lily looked alarmed. "How is that even possible?"

"Here," James picked up his plate and shuffled his own share onto Sirius' mound of scrambled eggs. "Take mine, if it'll shut you up."

"I love you," Sirius sighed.

James quirked an eyebrow. "Uh, thanks."

"I was talking to the bacon."

Beside them, Petunia mumbled something about cardiac arrest and shoved a spoonful of granola into her mouth.

There was a muted creaking noise as the basement door swung open once again and two more figures stepped into the kitchen. Remus, if possible, looked even worse than James as he dragged his feet over the final step; on top of his generally dishevelled appearance, he sported dark circles under bloodshot eyes and the kind of pallour that suggested serious illness. Peter, on the other hand, looked as though he'd had the best beauty sleep of his life. His eyes were wide open and he'd donned a lime green baseball cap for no apparent reason.

Remus fell into a chair at the kitchen table, and Sirius took a break from inhaling his food long enough to swivel around on his bar stool and ruffle his bandmate's hair. "'Sup, Moony? You look like crap."

Remus said nothing in response, just propped his elbows up on the table and put his forehead in his hands. James turned around and put a hand on his shoulder, leaning closer to whisper something that Lily couldn't make out, to which Remus shook his head in response.

Lily, who found herself becoming increasingly concerned, wasted no time in pouring him a large cup of coffee and loading up his plate with bacon, eggs, and toast. She brought his breakfast round to the table and placed it in front of him.

"Geez, I knew you guys were used to pampering but I didn't think you'd take this badly to sleeping on the floor."

"Please, Lulu," scoffed Sirius, "I'm pretty sure somebody sewed rocks into the carpet while you weren't looking. My back is covered in bruises."

Lily just rolled her eyes at him and turned back to Remus, folding her arms uncomfortably as she eyed his crumpled figure. "Is it really that bad?"

He lifted his head to peer at her through glassy eyes. "No, it's alright—I mean, the basement's fine. I've just been feeling a bit off lately." He picked up the coffee and put it to his lips, and then paused. "Sorry, but would you mind getting some sugar for this?"

"No problem," said Lily.

"Excuse me, Milady." Lily looked up to see Peter lounged ungracefully across two chairs. He swung his cap around to the side and winked at her—a feat he made to look quite difficult. "I'd care for some breakfast, too, please."

Lily raised an eyebrow at him. She wasn't sure whether he was going for Elizabethan or gangster; quite frankly, this change in behaviour was a little scary. She looked to the other Marauders for an explanation.

"You'll have to ignore him," James said, shaking his head. "That—" he gestured at the gaudy baseball cap "—is Pete's Tuesday Hat. Management gave it to him. Told him to make it 'his thing' 'cause his ratings weren't doing too well and he needed something new... long story. Anyway, he thinks he has to act like this ladies' man or something whenever he has it on. None of us really understand, to tell the truth." As James finished they all looked to Peter, who was nodding along approvingly and flashing them the "a-okay" sign with one hand.

Lily could not seem to think of any sort of logical reply to this revelation. Finally, she turned to James and Sirius. "... Is he on something?"

This caused Sirius to burst out in a loud, snorting gale of laughter. "Nope. One hundred percent Pete—no drugs involved."

"Right," Lily finally uttered. She examined the lime green monstrosity again. "Well, it's certainly... eye-catching."

"It has its own fan page on Facebook," Peter informed her with a disturbing wiggle of his eyebrows.

Lily grimaced. "That's... nice." She slipped back around the counter, loaded up Peter's breakfast plate in a flash, and retrieved a box of sugar cubes from the top cupboard. After depositing everything on the table, she announced, "I'm going to go feed the cat." Without another word, she grabbed a tin of cat food from the bottom of the pantry and slipped out the back door. "Harry!" she called sweetly. "Breakfast!"

Immediately, a black missile shot down the stairs and straight out the door, which Lily had left open a crack. Harry brushed against her legs contentedly for a few seconds before allowing her to scoop him up and carry him toward the shed.

"What the hell is a Tuesday Hat?" she muttered into Harry's furry ear. He let out a gurgly sort of meow in response. "You're lucky you're a cat, so you don't have to deal with this insanity."

For the past three days, Lily had been thinking about this exactly—dealing with things. The Marauders couldn't exactly camp out in the Evanses' basement forever. Not only were they a pain in the ass (though an admittedly less prominent pain than they had initially been) it wasn't helping their situation at all to stay in hiding. They were only allowing Val DeMort more time to plot against them and build up his forces, so that he could attack the moment they stepped into the public eye. Lily had given the matter some serious thought, and as much as she hated to admit it, she and Petunia were a part of this mess now, and they would inevitably have to be a part of the solution. As she emptied Harry's flakes of salmon into his dish, Lily decided that she would announce her resolve to the Marauders when she returned to the house. After all, she didn't want them getting it in their heads that they could stay here indefinitely. Having them around for the summer was one thing—but even if they could miraculously get Bob and Theresa on board, there would be a whole new series of complications when school started up again. What would Lily's friends think if they found James Potter in her basement? She shuddered at the thought.

By the time she got back to the kitchen, everyone was just about finished eating. Feeling absolutely ravenous, Lily washed her hands and loaded up a plate of bacon and eggs. She was just sitting down at the table when Petunia and the Marauders all began to rise from their seats simultaneously, leaving Lily alone with her bacon and eggs. "Thanks for breakfast, Lulu!" Sirius called cheerfully, and Peter tipped his Tuesday Hat at her as the Marauders made for the basement door.

"Hey!" Lily snapped in indignation, not entirely sure why she felt so angry at her abandonment. They weren't exactly pleasant company, she reminded herself—and yet it had been quite nice (that one time, anyway) to sit down and have an actual conversation with the lot of them. The Marauders turned around to look at her in surprise. "I wake up at the crack of dawn to cook you all breakfast and this is the thanks I get?"

The boys sheepishly retook their seats, James and Sirius exchanging a wary glance.

"You, too, Petunia," Lily called out to her sister, who was lacing up her shoes for her morning jog. "You're not getting out of this, you know."

Petunia, who would normally have protested, just shrugged and happily perched herself on the barstool next to James, where she sat staring at him with horribly gooey admiration.

Somewhat satisfied, Lily shovelled some bacon a few forkfuls of scrambled eggs into her mouth. She was in the midst of chewing when she looked up to see all four Marauders staring at her with expressions somewhere between fearful and expectant.

Lily swallowed hard; an un-chewed morsel of bacon caught painfully in her throat. "What, do you think I'm going to yell at you or something?"

James cracked a tiny smile. "Well, sort of. I really thought you'd want us to go away and give you some space, so this is a little strange, to tell the truth."

"Indeed 'tis."

"Shut up, Pete."

Lily sighed, put down her fork, and decided to get right to the point. "Look, I've been thinking... about your situation. With Val DeMort." A shadow seemed to pass over each of the Marauders' faces at the very mention of their potential chaser. "And I think we need to come up with some sort of plan."

There was silence. Finally, James spoke up.

"... We?" He wore a look of cautious interest.

Lily pressed her lips together. "Unfortunately, Petunia and I are a part of this now, whether we like it or not," she admitted sourly. "And let's face it—you lot can't stay here forever. Mum and Dad'll be back in about a week and a half, and then what?"

"The lady makes a valid point," Peter announced, nodding sagely.

Sirius snorted. "Yeah, Wormtail, _we know_. We were just talking about this yesterday, remember?"

"But why _can't _they just stay here?" Petunia looked mildly distressed. "I'm sure we could convince Mum and Dad—"

"No." James' tone was firm, and Petunia seemed a little startled to hear him shut her down so bluntly. "We can't keep sitting on our asses and hiding from all this – it isn't going to just magically go away."

"So... what do you suggest?" Sirius asked, glancing between James and Lily with a weary look that suggested they had already been through this discussion multiple times, to no avail.

Lily swallowed a mouthful of orange juice and set down her glass with resolve. "We need to do some research," she announced. "See what we can dig up on DeMort and the way he operates. I think we should figure out how much of a threat he actually is before we make any decisions."

"I don't understand why we can't just call the police," Petunia put in, and Lily resisted the urge to roll her eyes; it was so like her sister to place her faith in the hands of whatever institution was relevant to the situation in question.

"Yeah, why _don't_ we just waltz into a police station and tell them that Valentino DeMort is out to kill us?" Sirius shot back, his tone heavily sardonic. "_That _ought to be a smashing success."

"I think Lily has a point," Remus cut in, clearly sensing the now all-too-familiar beginnings of a pointless Sirius-Petunia showdown. "We need to get a handle on just how bad this thing is."

"Are you kidding me?" Sirius wore an expression of incredulity. "I think we came to the conclusion long ago that it is indeed _very bad_."

"Apocalyptic, if you will," Peter added.

"No, they're right," James countered, raising his head to look at Lily. "Right now, we really just need to do _something_. And research isn't a bad place to start – actually, it's pretty logical."

For a moment, Lily was taken aback by his support. She cleared her throat. "Alright then," she announced after a long pause. "Why don't I just do up the dishes and then we can get started?"

At the mention of chores, Petunia immediately rose to her feet and began to casually sidle out of the room. Sirius, amusingly enough, had a similar reaction. "Twiggie!" he called. "DDR rematch?"

Apparently, beating Sirius at DDR again was higher up on Petunia's priority list than her morning jog, because she pulled her running shoes off instantly, eyes narrowing into a competitive glare. "You're on."

In a clamour of thundering footfalls, the two of them bolted into the sitting room.

"Does _everything _have to be a competition with those two?" Remus asked, directing his question at nobody in particular. He followed at a much more leisurely pace, Peter trailing behind him as usual.

"Need a hand?"

Lily glanced up and almost dropped the stack of plates she was holding when she saw James behind her. He was clutching a couple of glasses that she hadn't been able to collect up for lack of space in her arms.

"You? Help with the the washing up?" She gave a little snort. "Do you even know how?"

"Yes," James sounded slightly miffed, "believe it or not, I am quite capable of doing dishes."

Lily wondered for a moment if she had offended him. "Sorry, I just assumed you'd have servants back at your mansion to do that sort of stuff for you."

James shot her an odd look and set the glasses down on the counter. "Okay, I don't know where you're getting your information from, but I _definitely _do not live in a mansion."

"Sorry, your castle then," Lily corrected herself with a dramatic eye-roll, and yet he was still shaking his head. "Penthouse apartment?" she tried again. "Six-storey beach house?"

James made a face resembling a grimace, his cheeks ever so slightly pink. "Actually, it's a little bungalow in Surrey." He exhaled and made a gesture to encompass the Evans' home. "Smaller than this, even."

Despite her efforts, Lily could not hide her incredulity. "Really?" she queried as she turned on the tap and poured some dish soap into the rapidly filling sink. She pulled a tea towel out of a drawer and chucked it at James, who caught it deftly and moved beside her as she began setting dishes into the hot water.

"Yeah." His response was a bit delayed. "Money was always tight growing up. Obviously things are a lot better now, but Dad refuses to move."

"How come?" Lily asked, overtaken by genuine curiosity.

"My mum died when I was seven," he said, and Lily felt her eyes widen in surprise and sadness. "Her things are still all over the place – Dad could never bring himself to move them or get rid of them. That house... it's sort of a connection to her, I guess. Makes it difficult to let go of."

Lily wasn't sure what to say to that. She couldn't quite reconcile the sympathy she was feeling with the mental image she'd always had of the high-and-mighty James Potter. And why was he being so open with her, anyway?

"Oh," she said awkwardly. "I'm sorry. That must be hard."

"It's alright," James said, as though he'd dealt with this reaction far too many times to count. "I mean, it was years ago, so we've learned to get on quite fine. Most of my brothers and sisters don't even remember that far back."

The glass Lily was washing slipped out of her hands and into the suds, and she quickly picked it back up. "You have brothers and sisters?" she asked in surprise. "As in plural?"

James looked at her strangely as she handed him the glass to dry. "Yes, I do. Honestly, did you think I was dropped into the recording studio by a stork or something?"

Lily felt her cheeks filling with colour. "You'd be surprised what pictures some people have in their minds," she muttered, remembering the three girls in the park and their tweenish fantasies. She cleared her throat. "So how big is your family, anyway?"

"Well, Sean and I are the older ones—he's twenty—so we pretty much banded together after Mum died. He was actually doing his own music thing for a while but got bored of all that pretty quickly and went to teachers' college instead... Anyway, then there's Will, he's fifteen. Biggest troublemaker you've ever seen—almost as good as me and Sirius in our prime, I reckon. And Evie and Laurel are thirteen. They pretty much hate me right now because their friends won't stop begging them for tickets and autographs."

Lily smirked. She suspected she would get along just fine with Laurel and Evie. "Don't your sisters like your music?" she asked.

James laughed. "Are you kidding? They made their own YouTube channel just for Marauders song parodies. They're basically our biggest haters. Only, you know, we actually get along most of the time."

Laughing, Lily handed over another glass. "I had no idea you had such a big family," she admitted, considering this revelation. To be honest, James seemed to be blowing away all of her preconceptions one after another these days. Suddenly, he was just James, a regular teenage boy with brothers and sisters and a little house in Surrey, as opposed to James Potter, the arrogant rock star with a best selling album and zillions of dollars to burn. She had to admit – she liked this new James a whole lot better.

"It's a blessing and a curse," James returned, towelling off the glass and setting it on the counter, where it gleamed in the sunlight. "My siblings drive me nuts sometimes, but I miss them like mad when I'm away."

This stopped Lily in her tracks. All of a sudden, she found herself thinking about the current situation in a whole new light. "Do they... know where you are now?" she asked, voice soft.

"No." James shook his head abruptly. "Not specifically, anyway. They know we're hiding, but that's about the extent of it. Telling them would only put them at risk."

Silence. There was a muffled sound of dishes clinking underwater as Lily pulled out a plate and began to scrub. "... I'm sorry," she finally said.

James met her eyes. "Nothing to be sorry for," he returned. "It's our own fault." He let out a deep breath full of resentment. "Sometimes, though, I wonder how the hell we got ourselves into this mess."

Lily held out the last plate, pulling the plug and listening to the water gurgle out of the sink and down the drainpipe. "Well, you're going to get out of it eventually," she told him.

Half-smiling, James took the plate from her hands. "I hope so."

They put away the dishes mostly in silence, with Lily pausing on several instances to show James where certain things went. It was amazing what a difference it made having help – in under ten minutes, everything was clean and put away.

Lily turned to face James. "Well... thanks for your help."

"No problem." He stuck his hands into his pockets. "It's the least I could do, really. I know we haven't said it much, but we really do appreciate everything you're doing for us here."

Whatever comment sprung to Lily's mind concerning the soap-opera-esque quality of this statement was quickly washed away by the genuineness with which it was said. She raised her eyebrows a notch and opened her mouth to say something, but the words got all jumbled up on the way out and she snapped her jaw shut. She had no idea how to address this new—and incredibly baffling—side of James Potter, and so she shifted her gaze away from him and cleared her throat. "Well, like I said, you won't be stuck in our basement forever. Everything will be back to normal before you know it."

With that, Lily turned awkwardly and led the way into the living room, where a rapid techno beat and the sound of feet stomping on plastic mats greeted her ears. Petunia and Sirius were in the middle of an intense showdown, bodies moving like wildfire as they as they danced to the bass-dominated rhythm. Both wore looks of concentration so intense that they were almost maniacal. It was quite a scene to walk in on, and Lily and James exchanged a fleeting glance of quiet amusement.

Not a moment later, the music came to an abrupt stop and there was a loud cry of anguish as Sirius fell to his knees in frustration. "Fuck!" he yelled, raking his hands through his hair. Beside him, Petunia was doing a passionate sort of victory dance.

"What's that now? Five to me?" she asked in a would-be-casual tone, staring down at him with fiendish eyes.

Sirius let out a noise of extreme annoyance, rising to his feet. "This game is rigged," he spat. "Come on, one more!"

"You _know _I'm going to beat you again," Petunia threw back, crossing her arms. "Why can't you just admit that I'm better?"

Sirius' eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Because you're not!"

"Guys!" James jumped in, eyeing them with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "It's just a game."

Sirius was flailing his arms wildly. "You don't understand, mate, it's the most frustrating piece of crap in the universe!"

"Then stop playing." James stated the obvious, looking at him blankly.

Vehemently, Sirius shook his head. "No, I have to win." With that, he stomped on his controller a few times, selecting a new song in less than a second. "Time for round two," he muttered, sounding slightly psychotic.

"Round six," Petunia corrected as the strains of a new tune began to pour out of the speakers. "I guess counting isn't exactly one of your strong suits either, is it?"

This seemed to send Sirius right off the deep end. With a snarl, he began attacking the mat so hard that Lily was sure it was going to catch fire – or explode.

"I already told you, Black! If you break it, you're buying me a new one!" Petunia shouted over the music.

If anything, this only seemed to make his footfalls even harsher; the entire house was practically shaking.

Lily and James exchanged another look, only this time, it was one of wide-eyed alarm.

"Disturbing, isn't it?" Remus commented from where he sat on the couch with his arms crossed.

Lily coughed disbelievingly. "That's putting it mildly."

Unfortunately for Sirius, despite his deranged dancing skills, Petunia's score was still slightly higher as the song came to a close.

"What? No! _How?_" The dark-haired boy burst out, holding his head in aggravation.

Petunia smirked. She looked calm and composed by comparison. "I'm just better, that's how."

"Rematch!" Sirius demanded, making to select a new song.

Lily couldn't take it anymore. In a few short strides, she propelled herself forward and yanked the power cable out of the wall. The screen fizzled to black. "That's _enough_!" she exclaimed, staring at the two of them in disbelief.

"Thank you," Remus muttered from the couch.

"I think we have bigger issues than DDR to worry about right now," Lily continued scathingly, the cord still dangling from her hands. "Valentino DeMort ring any bells?"

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius drawled. He seemed distracted, glaring daggers at Petunia.

"Guys, where's Pete?" James asked, his tone suggesting that he had only just realized the boy's absence.

Remus frowned. "Oh yeah, he left as soon as I got in here – like ten minutes ago. I thought he was going back to see you guys."

"He wasn't in the kitchen," Lily said. "We thought he was with you."

At precisely that moment, the boy in question waltzed into the sitting room, pausing momentarily to readjust his Tuesday Hat before flopping onto the sofa. Peter was painfully oblivious to the five sets of questioning eyes that were on him. He stared out the window for a while, eyes bunched up in something resembling concentration, and then began humming a jaunty little tune under his breath.

"Uh, Pete?" James finally broke the uncomfortable staring session. "Where were you?"

Peter looked mildly startled. "Oh, bathroom," he replied. "I... couldn't figure out how to flush the toilet."

The awkward atmosphere that was left in the wake of this statement was broken very suddenly when the phone rang.

Lily and Petunia exchanged a look of alarm.

"Great, that's probably Mum and Dad," Lily murmured under her breath. As the phone continued to ring, she felt a mild panic spreading through her veins. "Okay, cleaning then cookies, right?" she demanded of Petunia.

Petunia looked confused. "Wasn't it cookies then cleaning?"

"It doesn't matter – just pick one!"

"What the bloody hell are you two on about?" Sirius looked between the two of them as though they were speaking another language.

The phone rang again, and Lily let out a sound of desperation. "Okay, everyone shut up!" she cried. Barely pausing to take a breath, she raced into the kitchen and lunged for the cordless.

"Hello?"

"Hi... Petunia?" Teresa's voice had a hint of uncertainty in it.

Lily couldn't help but bristle slightly at being mistaken for her sister. "No, Mum, it's Lily."

"Oh, sorry Lily. You girls sound so similar these days. How are you?"

"Fine. I'm feeling much better today," she responded with forced cheerfulness, adding: "Petunia and I baked cookies."

Her mother let out a strange sort of sigh. "That sounds lovely."

"How are things with you and Dad?" Lily asked, brushing off a niggling sense of unease about her mother's tone of voice.

"Oh, fine," Teresa replied, and then sighed again. "Your father's out fishing right now. We're missing you girls something terrible – the cottage just isn't the same without you here."

Lily didn't have time to wonder about her mother's tone this time, however, because she was distracted by an odd discord of noises coming from the sitting room. Mouth twisting into a suspicious frown, she moved around the corner and glanced in.

What she saw made her wonder if her eyes were deceiving her.

Sirius and Petunia were having an intense sword fight with what looked like ballpoint pens while Peter sat on the coffee table, commentating in a tragically bad American accent.

"_Are you mental? Cut it out!" _Lily hissed angrily, holding the phone to her chest.

The duellers lowered their weapons, and Peter's voice trailed off. James and Remus sat side by side on the couch, looking resigned to the chaos.

"Lily? Are you still there?" Teresa's voice projected faintly from the earpiece.

Lily fumbled to shove the phone back up against her ear. "Sorry Mum. Phone must've cut out. Er... what were you saying?"

"Just that I miss you girls."

"Miss you, too, Mum," Lily replied distractedly. Sirius and Petunia had begun faintly clicking their pens against one another again. "_Shut up!_"

"Excuse me?"

"No, not you. Just.. Petunia. You know, being annoying," Lily rambled, sending her sister a death glare. Petunia responded in kind.

"Now, Lily, I hope you two are making an effort to get along while we're away," Teresa scolded, and Lily had a perfect visual of the rebuking face that her mother was without a doubt currently wearing.

She clenched her fists. "Yes, Mum."

"Would you mind if I spoke with your sister, dear?"

"Not at all," Lily responded dully.

"Love you, sweetie."

Lily sighed. "Love you, too." She removed the phone from her ear and held it out sharply. "Petunia. Phone," she snapped.

With a snotty expression, Petunia snatched the device rudely from her hands and sashayed into the kitchen, a loud "Hi, Mummy!" trailing in her wake.

As she listened to the echo of Petunia's voice from the other room, Lily leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed and an irritated expression stamped across her features. She must have looked quite frightening, because the Marauders remained deathly silent this time round, Sirius' pen laying abandoned on the coffee table. James caught Lily's eye once, raising his eyebrows slightly in recognition, before resuming his blank stare at the wallpaper.

Finally, after subjecting them all to a long, gushing conversation ranging from nail polish to the new issue of Marie Claire, Petunia hung up the phone and reappeared in the sitting room.

"Well, that went well," she chirped.

Lily made a face that conveyed her desire to strangle her. "That was almost a complete disaster, you idiot!"

"What are you talking about? Mum didn't suspect a thing."

"Oh, really?" Lily snarled. "Well, next time you feel like acting like a complete moron with Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dumber over there," she jerked a thumb towards Sirius and Peter, "please try and restrain yourself."

While Sirius looked affronted, Peter raised his hand. "Wait, am I Tweedle Dum or Tweedle Dumber?"

"Why do you always have to make such a big deal out of _everything_?" Petunia threw back, ignoring Peter. "It's over now, alright? Nothing happened."

Lily wanted to fight back – she really did – but suddenly, she just didn't seem to have the energy left inside of her. She let out a breath, willing all of the anger to ebb out along with the carbon dioxide. Surprisingly, it seemed to work. "Fine," she said curtly. "Why don't we get started on our research?"

"Good idea," James agreed, looking relieved that the fighting had come to an end.

As always, his enthusiasm was immediately copied by Petunia. "I'll go get Dudley!" she announced. There was a light pounding noise as she ran up the stairs.

"Who's Dudley?" Sirius asked, looking confused.

Lily didn't have a chance to respond before her sister was back on the staircase, this time descending at a painfully slow rate, as though every footstep was being carefully calculated in her head. Held in her hands like some sort of precious artifact was a hot pink laptop that was covered in fluffy trim.

Dudley. He was Petunia's pride and joy – she had added the embellishments herself one afternoon in a slightly frightening session involving a hot glue gun and an old feather boa. Apparently, she'd been going for a 'baby angel' theme. Lily thought the end result was more reminiscent of a pig in a wig.

"You... named your laptop?" Sirius gaped at the pink device. "_Dudley_?"

"Yes," Petunia replied casually; she didn't seem to have caught the mocking intonation in his words. As she set the bundle of fluff down onto the table, James and Remus exchanged looks of vague amusement.

Lily, on the other hand, watched the scenario in complete disinterest. After all, there were more important things to worry about at present than Petunia's unusual habit of naming inanimate, fuzz-covered objects. In the name of productivity, she began to drag chairs around to the end of the table so that they could all have a decent view of the screen.

That is, until she was interrupted by a loud, "Allow me, Milady!" and turned to find Peter pulling a chair forward gallantly and gesturing for her to sit. There was a strange moment where Lily glanced from the lime-green disaster that was his Tuesday Hat to Petunia, who was petting Dudley fondly, and felt her heart sink a little. She was surrounded by lunatics.

"Er, thanks," she muttered, gingerly taking a seat.

Peter offered a bow in response, and a moment later, the six of them were arranged in a semi-circle around Dudley, with Petunia at the controls. Remus, Lily and Peter were sitting down while Sirius and James stood at the rear, hands resting on the chair backs in front of them.

Sirius let out a loud snort when Petunia's desktop background loaded, and Lily couldn't blame him – it was an artsy, black and white shot of James with the word _'Believe' _superimposed in cursive writing across the bottom. Unable to stop herself, Lily stole a look back at the subject himself and was pleased to see that he looked quite uncomfortable. Petunia, predictably, did not seem embarrassed in the slightest – rather, she looked happy to show her idol just how far her loyalty extended.

The more Sirius stared at the photograph, the funnier he seemed to find it. "_Believe," _he choked, the intended overly dramatic edge completely lost in his amusement. He dropped a hand onto his messy-haired friend's shoulder and sniffed, pretending to be overcome by emotion. "James, I'm so inspired by you right now."

Petunia somehow managed to glare at Sirius while simultaneously sending hopeful, flirty glances in James' direction; the resulting expression looked completely demented.

James, on the other hand, simply looked chagrined. "Shut up, Padfoot."

"Can we get to the point?" Lily cut in. "Petunia, open up the internet."

"Don't tell me what to do, Lily," her sister snapped back. Then, she waited about thirty seconds, watching Lily drum her fingers against the table in irritation, before she finally clicked on the Internet Explorer icon. It was such a petty, Petunia-ish thing to do that Lily wanted to kick her.

When the browser window popped up, they were slapped with another glaring symptom of Petunia's out-of-control obsession. Her home page was set to '_Marauderland', _a black and red themed sitewhich boasted the words 'Number 1 Marauder fansite on the net!" in obnoxiously bold text across the top. Underneath this, there was a banner similar in dramatic impact to the _Believe _image, only this time it featured all four boys in various intense, brooding poses. Lily gagged a little internally.

In what was probably a force of habit, Petunia began idly scrolling through the comments section. Part of Lily wanted to tell her to quit it and get back on track, but her curiosity got the better of her and soon enough, she was reading them too. What she saw was mildly frightening.

_**Comment from: **__**marauderette4life**_

_james isn't answering any of my messages on facebook. i'm worried. JAMES IF YOU'RE READING THIS I LOVE YOU SOOOOOOOOOOOOO mUCH!_

_**Comment from: **__**moonysgirl**_

_oh my gosh you guys, i just ate a mars bar and then I remembered that remus loves chocolate and i just started crying. :'( i'm sooooo depressed right now. where are they?_

_**Reply from: cutiechick97**_

_OMG I KNOW! i had to stay home from school today because i was dipressed. :( :( __ :(_

_**Comment from: **__**EbonyPotter**_

_just found this picture from last year's summer tour and it made me sad. i want my boys back!_

(Here, there was a photo of James and Sirius, both looking sweaty and windswept but completely joyful, with their arms slung around a round-faced girl who was squinting into the sun. Sirius' tongue was out and his hand formed a loose rock on sign, while James was holding his water bottle up in the air for some reason, causing his black t-shirt to rise and reveal a good portion of a stomach that would make an actual washboard feel fat.)

_**Reply from: **__**siriuslyinlove**_

_omg you met them? i am uber jealous, girlie! lol, only sirius can pull off that face __ and still look ridiculously hot -swoon-_

_**Reply from: **__**potterishotter**_

_two words guys: James' abs._

_**Reply from: **__**marauderette4life**_

_drool... he is so sexy_

Lily let out an involuntary snort at this comment. However she very determinedly did not chance a look around at James, lest he think she was trying to glimpse those muscles herself. This proved to be much harder work than it should have been.

_**Comment from: **__**xmischief_totally_managedx**_

_siriusly u guys, WHERE R THEY? i no it hasnt been that long but im worried. wut if their dead or sumthing?_

_**Reply from: **__**cutiechick97**_

_NONOOOOOOOOO don't say that! if they died i think i would die to. OMGGG..._

_**Reply from: **__**sparkle08**_

_Well i know where James is... He secretly ran away to marry me and we're on our __ honeymoon now. sorry guys._

_**RE: Reply from: **__**potterishotter**_

_gtfo you dumb bitch, this isn't a joke._

_**Reply from: **__**iloveMWPP**_

_oh my gosh, you're gonna make me cry :(_

_**Reply from: **__**marauderette4life**_

_why did it have to be them? take justin bieber for pettigrew's sake but not our __ Marauders!_

_**RE: Reply from: **__**princesslupinlover**_

_HELL YES!_

_**RE: RE: Reply from:**__**itskelsyall**_

_hey i like justin bieber..._

_**RE: RE: RE: Reply from: **__**siriuslyinlove**_

TRAITOR!

_**RE: RE: RE: Reply from: **__**blacksoul243**_

_kill her_

"Okay, enough," Lily said loudly. While Petunia was transfixed by the messages, emoting accordingly as she read each one—sighing, nodding in agreement, turning to flutter her eyelashes at James, snorting indignantly—the Marauders' faces had morphed gradually from perplexed to amused, and from there to moderately uncomfortable. Lily wore a look of utmost revulsion; reading through these comments gave her the feeling of injecting her brain with an overdose of stupid. "Can we get on with it? This is hardly helping."

Petunia stuck her chin out and said calmly, "Of course it is, Lily. This is how the Marauderettes show their appreciation for their favourite boys." She sniffed. "It's very touching, and I'm sure James would agree." She whipped around to flash him a dazzling smile.

"Er, Marauderettes?" said James, looking slightly frightened.

"Your fans, silly!" said Petunia. "It's what we call ourselves. I personally voted for Supermarauderoholics, but others weren't so keen on that one."

"I wonder why," Lily deadpanned, but Petunia ignored her.

"So what is this website, anyway?" Remus asked, warily eying the overdramatic formatting.

Miraculously, Petunia tore her eyes away from James in order to begin her explanation. She scrolled up to the top of the page. "This is _Marauderland_," she said proudly. "It's where Marauderettes from all over the world share their stories of love, hope, and inspiration."

"Yeah, 'kill her' is real inspirational," Sirius muttered.

Lily, with her eyes closed and two fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, decided to clarify. "It's a site for unhealthily obsessed tweens to talk about how hot you are." She couldn't see her sister's resulting glare, but she felt it pierce through her like a thousand daggers.

"Actually," Petunia said, "it's a place to share the Marauder-love. I've been a member since day one. We've been hoping you guys would find it, so you could read our messages and all..." A somewhat manic smile crept up slowly on her face. "And now you have. The admins are gonna love me."

"Except that if you tell them, we're as good as dead," James reminded her gravely.

Petunia's complexion reddened a little. "Of course," she said, though it didn't sound as though this had occurred to her. "But are you sure I couldn't just—"

"Petunia," Lily snapped, "this is _not_ what we came on here to do. Just open up a search engine, for heavens' sakes."

"I'll do it when I'm good and ready, thank you," Petunia shot back. Not a moment later, however, she seemed to realize how awkward and pointless the whole display was and grudgingly brought up Google. "Right, so... what am I looking up?"

There was a moment of silence. What _were _they looking for, exactly? There was so much that they needed to figure out that it was difficult to know where to start. Eventually, Lily uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. "Why don't we look up Val in the news?" she suggested. "We need to find out where he is and what he's doing."

Petunia complied, and a millisecond later, a page of articles popped up on the screen. Blindly clicking on the first heading, she brought them to a news story entitled '**DeMort Disappears from Public Eye**'.

_'After the disastrous opening of his new London megastore, prominent multimillionaire Valentino DeMort has been flying under the radar. The Russian tycoon was last seen at the heavily publicized event, which rock sensations _The Marauders_ famously failed to attend (__**see article**__)__**.**__ Sources close to DeMort remain silent about his location, but his London penthouse has reportedly been empty for over a week. All things considered, it would seem that he's taken a leaf out of The Marauders' books and pulled a disappearing act. Are these two bizarre flights from the spotlight connected? Only time will tell.'_

"Great," Lily ground out. "That's a fat lot of help."

"Why would _Val _go into hiding, too?" Petunia asked, scrunching her nose in confusion.

"I dunno, but I've got a bad feeling about all this," Sirius responded.

Remus grimaced. "Me, too."

Peter, meanwhile, was tugging at the sleeves of his sweater anxiously.

"Maybe one of the other articles would be more helpful?" James suggested.

As though her only purpose in life was to obey his every command, Petunia immediately backtracked to the search results. The rest of the stories, however, all seemed to be more or less rehashed versions of the exact same thing; apparently, no one knew where Valentino DeMort was.

"Well, that's just fantastic," Sirius said.

Remus looked frustrated. "If only we had some way to track him down."

"Think," Lily ordered the Marauders. "Do you have any idea what his plans were before you left?"

There was a moment where the four boys looked at one another, eyebrows twitching as though silently trying to decide whether or not to share whatever they were all thinking of. Finally, they seemed to reach a decision in their little mute conversation, and Remus sighed.

"The tour," he said.

"Wait, what tour?" Petunia demanded, looking between the Marauders inquisitively. "There were no tour dates on your website. I check it _every _day."

"That's because it hadn't been announced yet," James explained. "I guess we didn't exactly tell you everything the other night. See, the London concert was meant to be the first show of the bunch, and then we were going to announce the rest. A summer tour of every Val-Mart in the country."

Lily made a face. "You were going to be spending your summer playing at _Val-Marts_?" she choked. "Talk about lame concert venues."

"Didn't exactly have a choice, did we, Lulu?" Sirius threw back.

"The tour'll be cancelled now, anyway," Remus pointed out. "So that doesn't help us find Val."

Lily let out a frustrated breath. "I wish we had some sort of Val DeMort locating device," she said. "Or at least someone who knew how to track people down."

"Well, I don't know of any computer-hacking supergeeks," Sirius said dully, "do you?"

"No," Petunia responded at exactly the same time as Lily said, "Actually..."

All heads turned to the latter. "You know someone who could help us?" James asked.

Petunia, clearly upset that the spotlight had shifted, butted in before Lily could say a word. "I don't see why we need some four-eyed loser to help us when I'm _perfectly capable_ of solving this on my own." In a desperate attempt to prove herself, she rapidly backtracked to Google and typed in "Valentino DeMort's supersecret webpage thingy," backspacing several times to correct her spelling.

The others ignored her, turning their focus back to Lily. "So?"

"Vernon Dursley," she said, eliciting a disgruntled noise from Petunia. "The boy who brought jam for Petunia—he lives across the street. From what I know, he's got some pretty wild skills. He hacked Petunia's Facebook last year and changed their status to 'In a Relationship.'"

Petunia looked as though she'd sat on a toad, while Sirius let out a sharp laugh and said, "When can I meet this bloke?"

Lily thought about this for a moment. "Well, we still can't let him know you're here, so you lot will have to hide in the basement." The Marauders nodded. "But we should be able to bring him over straightaway, since he, er, never really goes out anywhere."

"Excellent," said James, giving Lily a smile so genuine that her insides tingled a little. "We'll be downstairs, then."

The Marauders headed for the basement door, and Petunia made to follow them.

"Whoa, hold on," said Lily, snatching a fistful of her sister's silk blouse. "You're not getting away with that again."

Petunia pouted. "Why do _I _have to be up here?"

"Because," Lily said, steering her toward the front door. "You know as well as I do that he'll only come over if _you're _the one who invites him." She shoved her feet into a pair of flats and yanked the door open with her free hand.

Petunia seemed to be torn between struggling against her sister's hold and keeping her blouse from being ruined. "_Lily_," she whined. "You know I can't stand him."

"But think of how happy James will be when we make some headway with our research," Lily replied, figuring playing the James card was the only way to go at this stage.

It worked. "Oh, fine," Petunia sighed, yanking her blouse out of Lily's grasp and slipping her feet into a pair of pink sandals.

The two of them crossed the quiet road at a fairly quick pace, heading for the white clapboard home that stood directly across from their own. It was a place that had been a large part of both girls' childhood; Lily could recall spending many a summer afternoon making chalk masterpieces on the driveway or playing in Vernon's treehouse out back. Of course, those had been the days before the whole stalker obsession phase had begun, and before Vern had decided that his computer had a lot more to offer in the way of entertainment than his backyard. Lily could not remember the last time she and Petunia had made the journey across the street to knock on his door together. It was strangely nostalgic.

When they arrived on the cheerful front porch, there was silent squabble over who would ring the doorbell. Petunia kept hiding behind Lily, who eventually gave in and jammed her finger against the button with much more force than was necessary. While they waited, she looked around. A lot had changed since the the last time she'd been there, but some things were the same as ever. The smiley-face flowerpot that Vernon had painted in primary school was still sitting on the railing, although it was much more sun-worn than she remembered. Petunia, who had been in Vernon's class that year, had an identical one that was currently on the windowsill in their parents' bedroom. Lily had been so jealous the day they had emerged from school carrying the colourful works of art while she trailed along behind, pigtails coming unravelled as she tried to keep up with them.

"Well, I guess nobody's home." Petunia broke Lily's train of thought with her chipper outburst. She turned sharply and began marching down the stairs, but Lily caught her by her collar again.

"Nice try, Petunia, but you know Vern," she said. "He's probably just got his headphones in." She pushed the doorbell again, several times in a row.

There was a slight creak, and then the muffled sound of someone coming down the stairs, and Lily smirked in satisfaction. Petunia cringed away from the door in terror.

It opened a crack, and a suspicious, bespectacled eye peered out from the darkness.

"Hi, Vern! Look who came to see you!" Lily exclaimed, pulling Petunia by her sleeve and shoving her in front of the door.

Immediately, the eye widened and the door flew open all the way, revealing the rest of Vernon's body. He was pawing his hair down in an attempt to flatten it while simultaneously trying to smooth invisible creases in his Darth Vader t-shirt. "Petunia... hi," he exclaimed breathlessly. "I wasn't expecting... I mean, this is a surprise."

Grimacing, Petunia gave a half-hearted wave.

Lily decided to get straight to the point. "We actually came to ask a favour," she admitted. "How good are you at tracking IP addresses?"

Vernon's eyes narrowed to slits. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"We just need to know where someone is right now. It's... er... kind of desperate," Lily replied.

"Who?"

Lily bit her lip. _Oh, what the hell? _ "Valentino DeMort," she whispered.

"Valen – " Vernon began loudly, but Lily shoved a hand against his mouth.

"Don't say his name," she hissed as Vernon slapped her hand away in disgust. "Listen, it's a secret. We can't say too much, but it's very important."

Vernon simply looked irritated. "I can't just go poking into people's business, Lily. It's wrong. I have to use my powers for good, not evil." He sounded like some sort of wannabe superhero, and Lily had a strong urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she elbowed Petunia in the ribs. Hard.

"Please, Vernon," her sister choked out, sounding slightly winded. The effect was brilliant – if you ignored the death glare she was sending in Lily's direction, it almost sounded like a tearful plea for help.

The change in Vernon's demeanour was instant. His eyes went all gooey and he leaned a hand up against the door frame in a move that might have been an attempt to look cool, but more likely served the purpose of supporting his suddenly wobbly legs. "Alright, Petunia," he breathed. "Whatever you want."

Quirking an eyebrow, Petunia looked rather pleased at this power she held over him. "Okay, come with us. I'll let you use Dudley," she announced, skipping off across the street.

Vernon stared at her retreating figure for several seconds too long, and Lily was forced to snap her fingers in front of his face. When he failed to respond to this, she grabbed him by his t-shirt and frogmarched him down the steps determinedly. "Come on, Vern," she said in exasperation. "Let's go."

* * *

After Vernon had been put through the customary process of washing, sanitizing, and heavily perfuming his hands, Petunia let him install himself in front of the precious Dudley. While he worked his magic on the main floor, Lily and Petunia joined the Marauders in the basement to discuss further tactics.

"Hi, James!" Petunia exclaimed the moment she descended the final steps.

James adopted the fearful expression he wore so often around Petunia (Lily thought she might even have to name this new emotion: petunified) while Lily shushed her sister fiercely.

"You idiot, keep your voice down!" she hissed. "Do you want Vern to find out we've got the four most wanted boys in Britain down here?"

"Yes," said Petunia.

Lily rolled her eyes and turned to the Marauders. "Alright, Vern's all set up and he's going to find out what he can. Is there anything else we can do while we're waiting?"

"Pete had a thought," James said, gesturing at his hat-clad band mate.

"Indeedy-doo," said Peter, tipping the hat toward the girls.

"And?" Lily urged.

"It's a good one," said Peter smugly. "See, back in the day—"

"He means when we were homeschooling in a trailer on one of our music video shoots," James clarified.

"—I was top of the class—"

"Best of four people."

"—in one particular subject, dealing with legal matters."

Lily was genuinely impressed, as she could not imagine it, looking at the boy with his lime green cap and ridiculous mannerisms. "Wow, really?"

"You'd best believe it, Milady."

"Yeah, okay, I do. But what's the point?"

"There was this one word in the textbook: _precedent_."

"So?" Lily was beginning to wonder—if remembering one word from the textbook got him top of the class, just how bad had the others been?

"I believe we should treat this matter as a court case," Peter said, sniffing all pompously. "We might do well to look into similar instances and see how Valentino DeMort responded to these. This way, we may find out what punishment he plans to execute on us. All bow to the Legal Genius, please." He took off his Tuesday Hat and held it out triumphantly, but his horrifying hat-hair lessened the effect by a thousand percent.

Lily thought for a moment, trying to translate Peter's words into Earth speak. "That was possibly the most ludicrous answer I've ever heard," she said, "but you know, he actually has a point."

"Story of his life, I reckon," Sirius commented.

Petunia still looked slightly confused. "So what you're saying is that... we should find out what Val's done to others in similar situations?"

"Precisely." Peter nodded.

At this, Lily had a thought. It was something that may have vaguely crossed her mind before, but only now was she seeing it as something of importance.

"I have something you guys might want to see," she announced.

"No stripping, Lulu, please."

"Shut your face, Black. You're disgusting." Lily shot him a look of revulsion. "I did an extra credit assignment last year about Val DeMort. Mostly argumentative type stuff, but I did have to collect a bunch of newspaper articles for it. It's not much, but it might give us somewhere to start," she clarified.

"Sounds good to me." James lifted his shoulders approvingly. "Do you have a copy handy?"

Lily nodded. "Upstairs."

It took her less than a minute to sprint up the two flights of stairs and retrieve the document from her desk drawer. She was forced to pass by Vernon twice, but he didn't seem to notice her in the slightest. He was hunched over, eyes a few inches from Dudley's screen as his fingers moved at about a mile a minute over the keys. Lily figured she might as well just leave him to it.

"Right," she said breathlessly once she was back in the safety of the basement. "Here it is." She dropped the folder onto the worn coffee table and took a seat on the sofa. The others gathered around in a disorganized fashion as she flipped open the cover.

"Wow, that's a lot of paper," Sirius commented, looking slightly put out.

Lily began flicking through the mound of writing. "Most of that's essay stuff – not really important. I'm looking for... oh, here it is." She pulled out a little bundle of news articles, held together in the corner with a staple. "I never really read through these properly," she admitted. "I kind of did this whole assignment at the last minute."

"Tut tut," Peter interjected unhelpfully.

"Here, everyone take a couple," Lily began handing out the clippings. "Read them and let everyone know if you find anything relevant." She paused before passing Sirius his share. "You _can_ read, right?"

"Oh, Lulu, you make me laugh," Sirius responded, snatching the articles from her.

There were several minutes of complete silence as the six of them pored over the news clippings. Lily's turned out to be completely useless – one was an announcement from last year that Val would be opening a new store in Leeds, and the other rattled on about Val-Mart shares and the stock market and featured a lot of figures that made Lily's brain hurt.

"Anyone find anything?" she asked, glancing up from her own articles and looking around at the others expectantly.

A chorus of head-shakes ensued.

"No offense, Lulu, but there's nothing here that we don't already know," Sirius said, dropping his papers back onto the coffee table.

For some reason, this comment stung a little, and Lily couldn't stop a slight feeling of embarrassment from rising within her. "Well, it was worth a try," she muttered.

"Petunia?" a loud shout suddenly came from upstairs, and everyone fell silent.

Lily looked at her sister, widening her eyes in a what-are-you-waiting-for? sort of gesture. Petunia grimaced, folded and sank back further into the couch, and so Lily was forced to drag her along once again.

When the two of them reached the top of the stairs, Vernon was waiting with a sheet of paper in his hands. He readjusted his spectacles with one finger and angled the paper toward the girls.

"This was no picnic in the park, let me tell you, but my skills are infallible," Vernon bragged, puffing his chest out. "It would appear Mr. DeMort is, well, playing a rather elaborate game of hide-and-seek, if you will." He paused as though he expected laughter, but received no such response.

"But you found him, right?" Lily said impatiently.

The left side of Vern's body twitched a little at her tone of voice, but besides that there was no other indication he had heard her. He handed the paper over to Petunia, who was reluctant to take it but snatched it up hurriedly when Lily stomped on her foot.

"Petunia, dear, these are the addresses that Mr. DeMort's communications seem to have been coming from over the past week." He peered over the top of the paper, putting his face just a little too close to hers, and pointed to the first line. "I've organized the data in a grid and colour-coded locations similar in nature, so whatever you're looking for, you shouldn't have any problem. And, well, if you need any more assistance... I'd be, er, glad to provide it." He gave a nervous laugh and slicked back his hair with one hand.

"Thank you, Vern, that's great," Lily said, but Vernon was still awaiting Petunia's response. His eyes shifted timidly between her face and the floor, and beads of sweat were beginning to form on his brow.

Petunia, however, was determinedly avoiding his gaze. Her nose was all wrinkled up in disgust and her rigid fingers were crumpling the edges of Vernon's datasheet.

"Don't you have something to say, Petunia?" Lily prodded.

"No," grunted her sister.

Lily made to crush her foot again; Petunia yelped and jumped sideways. "Thanks, Vern," she said grudgingly, not even looking at him.

Vernon seemed pleased with this all the same. He bowed deeply to Petunia and waltzed giddily out the door; he didn't even need a Tuesday Hat to act like a complete idiot.

Back in the basement, Petunia reverently handed the paper to James, who set it down on the coffee table for all to see. The Marauders gathered around to pore over it.

"Any addresses you recognize?" Lily asked.

"Yeah," said James. He followed the list with his index finger. "That's the new ValMart, I think. That one's our manager's flat. There's Jackie's, the coffee shop we used to hang out in. That's a bowling alley, who knows what he was doing there. And that's..."

"Horcruxes?" Sirius said incredulously, and then laughed. "Good God, DeMort, that's just kinky."

James continued down the list, skimming over the addresses until he reached the bottom—at which point his finger went limp and he blanched.

"What?" Petunia squeaked. "Are you okay, James?"

James shared a look with Sirius, who seemed to have recognized the address not a second after his best mate. The two of them looked so fearful that Lily found her heart pounding as she turned the paper around to read it. The final address read _16 Appleby Court, Redhill, Surrey._ With one glance at James' terrified expression, she remembered their conversation at the kitchen sink and an icy cold sensation spread through her chest: "_Actua__lly, it's a little bungalow in S__urrey_."

"He wouldn't dare," Sirius said through gritted teeth, staring angrily at the paper. He put a firm hand on James' shoulder; "Don't worry, mate, they'll be alright."

James' voice was tight when he answered. "Yeah, fucking Valentino DeMort showed up on their doorstep. I'm sure they're just fine."

"Worst case scenario, he'd have questioned them," Remus said calmly. "I think it's a little early in the game for anything more extreme than that."

James wasn't convinced. His fists were clenched on the table and his haunted eyes stared vacantly at the wall.

"You can give them a call if you like," Lily said quietly.

At this suggestion, Remus shook his head and jabbed a finger at the date on the last line. "Val was there last night. Even if we do risk making contact with James' family, it's probably best to wait a bit longer, in case he's still in the area."

James nodded, still focused on the wall.

"Tomorrow would probably be alright, though," Lily said. "I mean, it's your call, but it looks like DeMort's moving pretty fast."

"Yeah, thanks," he responded, and then clenched his jaw. "Sorry, but I think I just... need to be alone for a few minutes."

Sirius squeezed his shoulder and then stood up, and everyone wordlessly followed suit.

As she climbed the staircase, Lily chanced one last look back at James, and felt her heart drop at the sight of his slumped figure. His head was buried in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees, and it was in that moment that the sense of watching everything from the protective bubble of a nightmare washed away for Lily, replaced by the dreaded knowledge that this was all very, very real. For the first time, she began to truly wonder just what she and Petunia had gotten themselves into.

And even as stepped out from the clammy basement air and into the summery heat of the kitchen, she felt a chill pass through her entire being.

* * *

Sometime after midnight, Lily woke to moonlight streaming in through her window, a powerful thirst in her throat, and a heavy weight pressing upon her lungs. It only took one bleary-eyed glance to see that Harry was sleeping soundly across her chest, curled up in a tight ball and looking quite comfortable.

"Nnnggh," she groaned nonsensically, the word sticking on her dry tongue as she drowsily attempted to shove him off. Harry lifted his head and made vague attempts to maintain his hold with his claws, but eventually fell sideways onto the mattress. He stretched out, looking disgruntled, and dropped to the floor gracefully, shooting out into the hallway. Still only half-alert, Lily smiled to herself and curled up on her side, preparing to return fully to sleep.

The darkness behind her eyelids gave way to a world of whimsical colour and she was on a boat that was floating over a sea of chocolate milk. Loud laughter rose up from the strains of muted conversation behind her, and she turned. The Marauders and Petunia, all dressed in matching Hawaiian shirts, were sitting around a table and sipping from glasses of the chocolatey liquid. For some reason, they were all wearing Tuesday Hats.

"Firecracker!" called James. "Have some, it's delicious!" He took a sip from his elaborate straw and grinned widely.

All of a sudden, Lily became aware of the intense thirst that seemed to be spreading through her entire body. She lunged for an empty glass that was sitting on the deck beside her and sprinted to the edge of the boat, leaning over the rail. All that delicious looking chocolate milk was sloshing about, twinkling in the sun, and she reached down hungrily.

It was just out of her grasp.

"I can't reach it!" she told the others, her voice panic-stricken. The dehydration was overwhelming, setting her throat ablaze.

Unfortunately, the Tuesday Hat wearers did not seem to be able to hear her; they were having an animated conversation about tricycles.

"Guys!" Lily yelled, trying in vain to get their attention. She could feel her throat closing up, and a desperation kicked in. Several times, James met her eyes, and it was as though he could _almost _hear her, but then he would turn away again. The others were completely oblivious.

"Twiggie, DDR rematch!" Sirius yelled abruptly, and then the two of them were jumping on the table, smashing glasses and causing the entire ship to rock.

Lily knew the end was near. There was a tightness in her throat and a pounding ache in her head, and the chocolate milk seemed to be getting further and further away from her desperate hand. Resigned to her fate, she felt herself slip over the ship's rails.

She sunk into the chocolate milk headfirst, but it was no longer a liquid. It had grown more viscous, like wet cement, and Lily felt as though she was moving in slow motion as she attempted to get to the surface. It was pressing down on her. She couldn't breathe. And she was so, so thirsty. This was it, she was going to die...

With a loud intake of breath, she opened her eyes. The relief that washed over her in that moment was immense. The boat, the chocolate milk, the Tuesday hats – everything had vanished, replaced by the familiar angles of her darkened bedroom. The only thing that remained was the horrible thirst, which seemed to plague her throat with renewed vigour.

With a groan, Lily pushed herself up and rubbed her eyes. She was going to have to get something to drink if she wanted to avoid a repeat incident, and so she stumbled out of bed, blearily following the familiar path down to the kitchen.

When she flicked on the light, her heart gave an unpleasant start. Remus sat in a chair by the window, his form creating a sinister scene; his lanky body was hunched over, his eyes sunken, and his pale skin glazed with a sickly layer of sweat. Lily blinked against the bright light; when her vision adjusted, she saw that Remus was looking right back at her with his features set in a perfect deer-in-the-headlights expression.

He was also injecting himself.

The syringe was poised half an inch from his stomach, filled with transparent fluid, ready to pierce the folds of skin he had pinched together with his thumb and forefinger. His thumb was frozen on the plunger as he stared at the new arrival in the doorway. There was a guilty sort of fear in his eyes.

Lily put two and two together, and began to back slowly out of the room.

"Wait!" Remus called out suddenly. His voice was choked and feeble. "Lily, it's not what it looks like..."

Lily cleared her throat nervously. She had no idea how to react—she'd never dealt with this sort of situation before, and had hoped she'd never have to. But here it was, right at her kitchen table. In fact, she was surprised it hadn't occurred to her before. The strange moods, the lethargy, the bloodshot eyes... Rock stars did drugs all the time; it was only natural that one of the Marauders would stumble down that thoroughly beaten track.

"It's okay," Lily said, taking another step backward. "I, er, won't tell anyone... if that's what you're worried about. Actually, I'll just go back to bed and pretend this was all a dream. 'Night." Who knew? She might really be able to convince herself that this had simply been an extension of her subconscious's last demented concoction. From chocolate milk to Tuesday Hats to a drug addict in the kitchen, Lily was having a pretty strange night. She reached out to turn the light off, but Remus stopped her once again.

"It's insulin," he blurted out.

"That's what you guys are doing these days?" Lily was baffled. "God, what else? Scratch that—I probably don't want to know."

Remus wore a humourless half-smile as he regarded her. "Actually, I'm a diabetic."

_Oh._

Lily felt a strange combination of emotions pass through her body. In the extended period of quiet, Remus gently slid the needle into his skin and emptied its contents. When he drew back, Lily noticed the faint purple marring of the flesh on his stomach and felt a growing sense of intruding on something private.

"So that's why you've... been ill?" she finally asked, feeling a need to break the heavy silence.

Tucking his syringe back into a little black holder, Remus nodded. "I only found out last year," he told her. "Kept blacking out in the middle of performances and lost a crapload of weight. James and Sirius were the ones who finally forced me to see a doctor about it."

Lily digested this information, wondering briefly why she had never heard anything about it from Petunia, who was practically a walking Marauder encyclopedia. And then a thought occurred to her. "Your fans," she began, glancing up, " do they know?"

"No." Remus shook his head, looking a little resentful. "I was actually going to make an announcement, but Management decided at the last minute that it wasn't a good idea. Kind of contradicts the whole 'rebel' image of the band, you know?" He sighed. "Plus, they say some American boy band is already playing the Diabetes angle, and we need to stay 'original'."

Lily raised her eyebrows. "This 'Management' sounds like a piece of work," she said, taken aback by the wrongness of it all.

Remus snorted. "Yeah... You have no idea."

There was silence for several moments, in which both parties digested the conversation thus far and neither was quite sure how to continue it.

Finally, Remus spoke. "This probably goes without saying, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anybody else... and, well, especially not your sister."

Lily smiled at this. "Well, duh," she said, "Petunia would have it all over _Marauderland_ in a heartbeat. So yes, my lips are sealed."

"Alright. Thanks a lot, Lily." He stood up and took a few steps toward the basement door, and then, apparently struck by a sudden afterthought, turned around. "Just being a good mate here, so don't get touchy when I ask you this," he warned, and Lily was immediately on guard, "but... what do you think of James?"

Lily opened her mouth, and her brain see-sawed between two instinctive responses: laughing derisively, or shouting at Remus for having the nerve to suggest such a thing. Somehow, she couldn't quite manage either one. In the end, she snapped her jaw shut, paused, and said, "_What?_"

Remus smiled ever so slightly. "You know, just curious."

"Of course you are. Did he put you up to this?" Her head spun with the absurdity of the situation. It was just like at school, when a boy got his mates to do his dirty work for him, only... James Potter? Asking about _her_? A strange mixture of dread and excitement welled up in Lily's chest, and she tried very hard to push it back down.

"You didn't answer the question," said Remus slyly.

True. Why couldn't she answer the stupid question? _What do you think of James Potter, Lily_? _He's a jerk, and I despise him, and my life would be complete if I could bring him down on his sorry arse. There. Not so hard, right_? Try as she might, she couldn't force those words through her parched throat. Instead, she decided on:

"He's a Marauder. I mean, I sort of hate you all by default. Er, no offence."

Remus snorted. "Fair enough." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned to go downstairs.

For some reason, Lily couldn't leave it at that. The words burned on the tip of her tongue, and before she knew it, she was calling them out to him in as low a voice as she could manage.

"But he's a lot more genuine than I thought, I guess. You all are. Not exactly the arrogant pricks from Petunia's posters."

Remus smirked, as though he might've gotten the answer he was looking for—or had been hoping for. "Nice to know," he said simply, and then, "Goodnight, Lily."

"G'night," she mumbled as he closed the door. Now that the words had left her mouth, she was in a sort of daze. Had she really just admitted that aloud? She filled a cup of water and made her way back to her bedroom in the dark. Along the way, she found herself desperately wishing the last ten minutes could be tacked on to the end of that loony boat dream—because right now, she felt like the biggest idiot alive.

* * *

**A/N: **Speaking of idiots... We're back!

In order to get this chapter to you as quickly as possible, we have decided to condense our usual page-long author's note. Besides, you know our excuses already (if you don't, head over to the Formspring Page of Enlightenment).

A good day to you! (Removes Tuesday Hat)

Sinseerlie,

Liz and Sam

(_Seven Scribbles_)


	7. Constellations

**Disclaimer: **When was the last time you had to wait six months to read the next chapter of a Harry Potter book? If your answer is 'never', then you're correct! Congratulations! It should therefore be obvious to you that nothing from the series in question belongs to us. (If that was not your answer, you may want to look into the credibility of your book supplier.)

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Constellations

* * *

Sleep, it seemed, was simply not meant to be that night.

Lily had figured that after nearly being suffocated by her cat, surviving a terrifying nightmare about chocolate milk and discovering a shirtless boy injecting himself at her kitchen table, things could not possibly get any more bizarre before morning.

Sadly, she could not have been more wrong. The night was shaping up to be something of a never-ending story, she decided, when she woke up _again_, this time to a strange, gangly creature hunched over the floor of her bedroom. Its posture in the moonlight was projecting a shadow resembling an emaciated sort of dwarf onto her bedroom wall.

"_AHH!" _Bolting upright, Lily backed up against the headboard, raising a pillow in front of her face in some pathetic attempt at self-defence. That is, until she chanced a closer look and noticed the strands of blonde hair glinting ominously on the creature's head. "Oh _god._.." She dropped the pillow with a stone cold glare. "Petunia, what the hell are you doing?"

Her sister turned her head in a sharp motion, and her eyes seemed to reflect like an animal's in the dark. The effect was something like a Gollum-caught-in-the-headlights, and despite herself, Lily was a little creeped out.

Silently, Petunia raised a bone-thin finger to her lips. Then, she bent down again, lowering her ear to the carpet.

That was when it clicked. Lily inhaled and pressed her teeth together, immediately jabbing a finger sharply in the direction of the door. "Get. The hell. _Out_."

"_Lily,"_ Petunia whined.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you _drop another earring_?" The redhead's voice rose from a low hiss to a loud whisper. "Take your disturbing spying techniques back to your own room."

"Shhh!" was Petunia's infuriating response. She looked crazed – one side of her face had register-indents running in lines along the cheekbone. "Yours has better acoustics. Now be quiet."

Letting out a loud groan, Lily fell backwards onto her pillow. "Seriously, you have problems."

For a moment, there was silence, but it was short-lived. Petunia breathed out audibly. "I think he's about to call his family." The words tumbled out of her mouth in an awkward, too-quick fashion.

A beat of something thumped through Lily, and she squinted at her sister's hazy outline. "...What? _Now?_"

She must have experienced a minor lapse in synapse function here, because there was a strange blur, and the next thing she knew, the softness of her bed had been replaced by the roughness of carpet fibres against her knees and she was bending over beside her sister on the floor. The pair squabbled for a moment until they managed to content themselves with a compromise; Petunia's ear was squashed against the left side of the metal grating, leaving Lily with a sliver of an opening to listen through on the right. As they settled down, muffled tones of male conversation floated upwards and into their thirsty ears.

"_I haven't fucking slept all night, Padfoot." _James' voice was weirdly tinny through the pipes, but there was no mistaking the agitation in his tone.

"_I know mate, but I still think you should wait till morning. DeMort– "_

"_Fuck DeMort! I don't care anymore. I'm calling them."_

_"Don't be stupid..."_

It seemed the boys were moving away from the downstairs register, because their words became muffled and then inaudible. In spite of all logic, Lily found herself, alongside a desperately fidgeting Petunia, straining to hear more. She'd heard James talk about his family at the kitchen sink, as though they meant more to him than the world itself. And she'd seen him yesterday, when the group had spotted his home address on the list of Val's most recent destinations—crumpled, defeated, with his head in his hands and more weight on his shoulders than she'd imagined any pampered rock star capable of bearing. As much as she despised Petunia for her snooping ways, Lily was just as anxious for the verdict of this pivotal phone conversation—if it was indeed going to take place tonight.

For several more drumming heartbeats, the register remained silent. Then, there were footsteps followed by a series of multi-toned beeps. Sirius' voice met their ears once again, hushed now, and more urgent.

_"Prongs, listen. They could be tracking calls. If somebody else answers—DeMort, one of his cronies, some mangy axe murderer..."_

But James shushed him fiercely, and Sirius must have given up because there were no more objections on his part. Instead, the footsteps ceased and there was an impossibly long, impossibly heavy pause.

...

_"Dad?"_

A giant gust of breath—one she hadn't been aware she was holding back—whooshed out of Lily's lungs, and she quickly put a hand over her mouth to stop the noise from echoing through the register.

_"Oh, bloody hell, it's good to hear your voice."_ The voice on the other end of the line was, in fact, too quiet to hear at all, so Lily could only infer what was being said from James' reactions. _"I'm fine, really—it's you lot I was worried about... No, I had to call. We heard De—well, You-Know-Who, was there, and I couldn't just... Oh, thank goodness. And Evie and Laurel...?"_

Despite the fact that she was dying for some oxygen, Lily forced her breath to stay in her lungs as she waited for James to speak again, to confirm his sisters' safety. The silence dragged on and on, until it became almost physically painful. Lily's heart began to beat with a nervousness that was uncomfortably thick as she strained with all her might to make out even a trace of conversation. Beside her, Petunia crushed her head even closer to the vent's opening, if such a thing were at all possible.

And then suddenly, there was a choked sound, and James said: "_Oh god..._"

Lily felt her chest tighten as his words, difficult to make out, rose to levels resembling hysterics. Anguished cries filled the house, audible even without the help of the register.

"No..." Petunia gasped. For a second, her lip trembled, and then she burst into tears. Lily could only sit there, stock still and silent, as her mind struggled to accept what was happening. The combination of her sister's crying and the ongoing hysterical noises projecting from the lower level were causing a sizable lump to rise in her throat.

"What should we do?" Petunia choked through her sobs.

Lily shook her head, feeling tears threaten to well up in her eyes. "I don't know, Petunia."

Petunia carried on sniffling for a bit longer, fidgeting anxiously, and then seemed to reach some sort of decision. "I'm going to go comfort him," she said.

Lily's tears immediately dried up at her sister's stupidity. The last thing James needed right now was for Petunia to be in his face, fussing over him to no end. As her sister rose to her feet, Lily grabbed her ankle, tugging it back firmly. "No," she insisted. "You're not going anywhere."

Angrily, Petunia pulled her foot free. "He can't be alone at a time like this, Lily," she hissed. "He needs me!"

Lily would have pointed out that clearly, he was not alone, as Sirius was already with him, but her sister had already disappeared. Numbly, she rose to her feet and hurried after her, if only to try and cushion the effect that her overbearing nature was about to have on James.

As it turned out, James and Sirius were in the kitchen, and the former was in the midst of replacing the cordless phone on the handset when Lily and Petunia barged through the doorway. His face was blank and oddly slack, as though he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. Behind him, Sirius was waiting with an anxious hand pressed over his mouth—wide-eyed, concerned, even a little confused.

Lily pulled up short, and to her surprise, Petunia stopped beside her. James had his back to them now; he was breathing heavily and had his hands on his hips, and it was altogether quite frightening waiting for him to respond in some way. The lump in Lily's throat prevented her from saying anything, but Petunia, it seemed, was dying to speak.

"Are you okay, James?" she blurted, her voice high-pitched and too loud. She was staring at the back of his head with affection practically oozing out of her eyes, all tense and teetering back and forth on the balls of her feet. Lily silently prayed she wasn't about to launch herself into his arms.

At that moment, James turned slowly to face them. Lily's heart was pounding so forcefully against her ribcage it was actually painful. He had the strangest look on his face; his eyes unfocused, one corner of his mouth twitching slightly. Lily wondered if he might be in shock.

And then he said: "My sisters are _geniuses_."

The general surprise at this outburst was apparent. Sirius looked relieved, Lily's eyes widened and Petunia's jaw dropped about a foot. "_What_?" she burst out.

"Evie and Laurel," James continued, shaking his head in something resembling a combination of amusement and pride. "Apparently, DeMort showed up at the door on the night of their annual Marauder Haters Unite sleepover."

While Lily and Petunia looked confused, Sirius slapped his knee and burst into laughter. "No way."

"Yeah, they managed to convince him that he had the wrong house. Probably didn't take much considering they were defacing posters when he arrived."

"Mate, that's... bloody brilliant," Sirius said, straightening up. "I never thought I'd say this, but thank god your sisters hate us so much. Tell Evel thanks for me next time you talk to them, won't you?"

At this, Petunia had a strange expression on her face, like she had just figured something out and the answer frightened her. Looking horrified, she burst out: "EvelPotter are your _sisters_?"

"Evil Potter?" Lily repeated, wondering what on Earth she was on about.

Petunia's nose was wrinkled unattractively. "No, it's Ev_el, _with an E. They're the most famous anti-Marauder channel on YouTube."

At this, James laughed. He seemed to be delirious with relief, and it was exaggerating his reactions in a manner that suggested he'd overdosed on happy pills. "Yep, that's them. Evie and Laurel—Evel. Best sisters in the world."

Petunia looked as though she'd eaten a bushel of lemons. "I'd hardly call them that—Don't you see what they say about you?" she demanded. "It's awful. How can you put up with it?"

James was still smiling happily. "Ah, it's all in good fun. Besides, they just saved our arses, didn't they?"

Petunia digested this for a moment, looking alarmingly like an irritated stick insect. "Well," she finally forced out. "I'm glad everything's alright, anyway. We thought..."

There were a few seconds of silence, and in that time, reality seemed to filter back into the room. Lily suddenly realized that she and Petunia had just barged into the kitchen in varying stages of distress and tearfulness. Not only that, but Petunia was wearing a skimpy pink nightie with lacy hems that barely covered her tiny bottom, and Lily nothing but an oversized football jersey that had once belonged to Bob. Petunia seemed to realize this too, because she immediately tugged at the bottom of her nightgown and folded her arms across her chest. Sirius' eyes strayed noticeably to her figure as she did this.

"Sorry," James finally said. "I guess I was laughing pretty loud. I didn't mean to wake you. I was just so bloody relieved—"

"No, don't worry about it," Lily surprised herself by saying. "I'm glad your family's safe." James caught her eye as she said this, and suddenly she felt very self-conscious in her pyjamas. "Anyway, I'm heading back to bed. Petunia?" She motioned for her sister to follow her.

"Goodnight, James," Petunia said, wrapping her arms around him in a tight, overenthusiastic hug. After finally pulling away, she found herself facing Sirius. "Black." She nodded curtly.

"Twiggie," he responded lazily, inclining his head in kind.

Lily, who had been watching these exchanges absently, cleared her throat. "Right, well, see you lot in the morning," she said, turning to make her way out of the kitchen.

"'Night Firecracker," said James, just as Sirius called out "Sweet dreams, Lulu!"

When Lily got back up to her room, however, she wasn't tired in the slightest. Instead of sleeping, she scooped up her laptop and plonked down on her bed, stretching out on her stomach and using her elbows to prop herself up. The screen cast a bright and artificial sheen of light across her face, making it glow brightly in the surrounding darkness. After several minutes of aimless browsing, she found herself on YouTube, doing a user search for EvelPotter. She recognized the channel immediately when a display picture of two dark-haired girls winking at the camera popped up alongside the words **EvelPotter: Your daily dose of Marauder hate. **

Grinning slightly, she clicked on the link and immediately found herself confronted with hundreds of videos. Aimlessly, she selected the first one that caught her attention, entitled "Exclusive interview with James Potter". As she waited for the video to buffer, she scanned the information box and discovered that it had been uploaded almost two years ago. Finally, the video began playing, starting out with a black, fuzzy screen and a few evil sounding giggles in the background.

"Okay, so, this is Evie and Laurel," a voice whispered, sounding very close to the camera. "We just... er... stumbled upon a certain idiot Marauder, and we're going to try to get an interview."

"Well, that is, after we do this..." another voice, similar but slightly higher pitched, added in a low voice. A flashlight clicked on, illuminating a rumpled head of dark hair that was smushed against a pillow. Despite the slightly more youthful angles of his face, Lily recognized a sleeping James Potter. A young girl with long, black braids crouched down into the frame, holding a heavy marker in her hand. Grinning, she uncapped it and wasted no time in drawing a swirling moustache onto James' smooth face. At the contact, he immediately began to stir, and the girl shoved the marker behind her back as his eyes slid open.

"Evie? What the? Get lost." Groggily, he turned over and tried to go back to sleep. The moustache smudged against his pillow, dragging the ink up one side of his face. Despite everything, he looked kind of cute.

"So, James," Evie questioned, sounding chirpy. "Would you mind if we asked you a few questions?"

"Nnngh," he replied.

"I'll take that as a sign of accord," Laurel, the one behind the camera, said. "Question number one: What do you think it is that makes The Marauders such a failure of a band?"

James smashed a pillow over his face. "Go 'way."

"Eloquent, isn't he folks?" Evie said, smiling cheerily at the camera. "Tell us James, what inspired your new look? Is it true that you feel the handlebar moustache is making a comeback?"

"What on Earth are you talking about?" James mumbled sleepily. Yawning hugely, he turned over onto his other side, and within an instant, he was snoring.

The camera swung around to face a grinning Laurel, who was quickly joined by her sister. "Well," said the former, "there you have it, ladies and gentlemen: the famous James Potter in all his glory."

"Charming," said Evie. "Join us again in a couple of weeks for Sirius Black on the toilet."

There was an almighty snore, and the video ended.

Lily found herself in stitches, biting hard on her sleeve to keep from laughing out loud. Hell, if she'd only stumbled across this channel months ago, at the height of her own Marauder hatred, it would have comforted her to know she wasn't the only sane girl out there. In fact, even now, she had a feeling that she would get along with Evel just brilliantly.

She stayed awake into the wee hours of the morning watching video after video, stifling laughter until her stomach hurt. With every commentary and exposé, every interview and parody, she found herself learning more and more about the Marauders, and in particular, James. These little glimpses into his life were a real eye-opener for Lily; they allowed her to see what things had been like for the Marauders before they'd shown up in the Evans' backyard over a week ago. Until now, the band had seemed to exist in a strange bubble of summertime. Their music, touring lifestyle and family lives were complete mysteries to her. And now, as she flicked through dozens and dozens of videos, she felt the blanks beginning to fill in. None of it was anything like she'd imagined. Even as the Marauders fell victim to Evie and Laurel's ridicule over and over again, she found herself wishing—it was the strangest thing, really—she could have been there with them, could have been part of the action. It was a Class A symptom of Maurauderitis, she was aware, but the hilarity of their antics was infectious, and the closeness of their friendship endearing.

It was as her eyelids were beginning to droop that Lily stumbled upon a short clip of the Marauders at a concert venue, making their grand entrance to the stage. The video had been at the top of EvelPotter's favourites, and was titled "James Potter falls out of the sky". The stage was mostly dark, but came aglow periodically with a blinding light punctuated by heavy bass. Smoke clouded the scene. Suddenly, four pairs of legs appeared from above, descending gradually until they were no longer just legs but entire bodies, invisible in the darkness but bathed dramatically in silver with every burst of light. The whole set-up looked vaguely familiar to Lily; she assumed it was from one of the numerous times Petunia had hijacked the TV to watch a selection from her library of Marauder concert videos.

As the Marauders emerged, limbs hanging slack and heads down, the screams from the audience rose to such a height that, in the recording, they became an indecipherable buzz of white noise. The bass became louder, the light flashes more frequent, until there was a rapid flickering and the backing track to _Mischief Managed_ began to play. The Marauders raised their heads all together in preparation for their landing. All was going smoothly as the wires lowered them onto the ground—until, at the very last second, James leaned too far forward in his harness and lost his footing. He careered forward, arms pin-wheeling while his legs made useless running motions in the air. The others made smooth landings on their feet and picked up their instruments to play the first notes of the opening number, launching into the song just as James faceplanted with a grunt that was heavily magnified by his microphone.

There was a collective intake of breath from the audience. For a moment, James seemed to be stunned, but he quickly gathered his bearings and leapt to his feet as the backing track continued to play, creating an awkward sort of lapse in the music. Cheeks flushed beneath the bright lights, he reached for the microphone stand and brought it to his lips with a sheepish grin. "Wow, that was... totally a part of the choreography." The crowd let loose a mixture of laughter, cat calls and deafening screams as he plucked the microphone from its stand, taking several steps backward and grabbing his guitar. "Let's try this again. What do you say, London, are you ready to rock tonight?" The resulting screams all but drowned out the music as the track started over, with James jumping in right on cue this time. The video cut off short with a sharp peal of laughter from the camera-holder.

Lily remembered now: she'd seen this video before. It had been several months ago, when a friend from school had sent it to her for a laugh. She'd laughed alright—and then boiled over with exasperation when James had stood up and the audience had cheered him on like he was some sort of hero. _What an arrogant toerag,_ she remembered thinking, wondering how any human being could go for such a ridiculous tumble and expect not to take a bit of flack for it.

This time, her response was much different. Granted, she laughed; in her state of sleep deprivation, James' fall from the harness had her practically in tears. But now, she also felt a flash of embarrassment for him. As he picked himself up and carried on, she found herself appreciating his ability to good-naturedly brush off the incident and continue with the performance. She imagined that if she had just face-planted in front of a stadium full of people, she would probably want nothing more than to run offstage and lock herself in a dark room to wallow in self pity. At least James had enough charm to keep the audience laughing with him, rather than at his misfortune.

Lily rewound the video to a freeze frame of James on the floor, all red-cheeked and stunned, but with a hint of a crooked smile creeping up one corner of his mouth. In that one vulnerable moment, there was something so bizarrely _adorable_ about him that Lily found herself replaying the few seconds of his recovery over and over again, wondering if she wasn't losing her mind. Eventually, she snapped her laptop shut and rolled over. If this was indeed the strangest night ever, she thought, then this inexplicable bout of Marauderitis was the perfect conclusion.

* * *

For Lily, who had been beginning to think that the sun would never rise, the dawn of morning was a beautiful relief. Under different circumstances, she might have been convinced that last night's events had all been some ridiculous, epic-length dream, but their drawn-out nature was still so fresh in her mind that it simply seemed as though she had not slept at all. And, well... essentially, she hadn't.

Despite this, she was out of bed the very instant the yellowish rays of light began to filter through her gauzy curtains, and she felt surprisingly cheerful. She even hummed quietly to herself as she swapped her pyjamas for a pair of denim shorts and a pretty white top that she hardly ever wore. As she stood in the bathroom after brushing her teeth, she decided for no apparent reason to braid her hair and jab a pair of little golden hoops into her ears. Then, after eyeing up a bottle of Petunia's perfume, she tentatively spritzed a little onto her wrists (and immediately regretted it when the smell of strawberries became so overpowering that she was forced to turn on the fan and evacuate to the safety of the hallway).

"Did you use my _Strawberry Fields Forever_?" Petunia's sharp nose appeared almost immediately through the frame of her bedroom door, along with the rest of her face.

Lily froze. "Nope!" she squeaked, and then scuttled around the corner. As she did this, she caught a glimpse of herself in the glassy visage of a picture frame and was mildly surprised when she did not see the usual ponytail and t-shirt blandly reflecting back at her. She _must _have been in a good mood that morning. But... why? A tiny part of her consciousness remembered James' phone conversation and his joyful face when he explained that his family was safe, and she realized that she, too, was oddly relieved. Either that, or she was simply delirious with relief at having escaped the apocalyptic nature of last night.

Apparently functioning completely on autopilot, she found herself entering the kitchen a few moments later. The first thing she noticed was that there was an unfamiliar, bespectacled boy sitting at the table and reading one of Bob's auto magazines. _Vernon...? _was her mind's first thought as it flicked through all the rational possibilities of who this mystery guest might be. And then he looked up. And Lily realized...

"Oh my god." Choking on her own laughter, she doubled over and grabbed hold of the counter for support.

"You'd better be laughing at the fridge." James lowered the magazine onto the polished surface of the table.

Lily wiped tears from her eyes. "What. Are. Those?"

"Glasses, Firecracker. Nifty invention to restore eyesight." He folded his arms and sighed, admitting begrudgingly: "My contacts broke."

Having no response to this strangely hilarious revelation, Lily simply snorted again and shook her head. A moment later, a ruckus of footsteps rose up the basement stairs and the rest of the Marauders appeared in the kitchen.

"Morning Specs," Sirius offered, shoving James' head forward as he passed behind him. He nodded to Lily, "Lulu."

Remus, too, offered a nod as he emerged from the basement, and Lily immediately sobered when their eyes connected. Something passed between them—a mutual acknowledgement of what had happened last night, and a promise that it would remain between them. Lily's eyes then slid to Peter, who was bringing up the rear as usual, and she was relieved to see that the Tuesday Hat was nowhere to be found.

"What a night, eh?" Sirius commented, dragging a chair out from the table and flipping it around to sit on it backwards. Without hesitation, he helped himself to the tall glass of orange juice sitting by his band mate's hand.

"Tell me about it," Lily responded. As she looked up, her eyes caught James, and stayed trained on his face for a moment. The glasses gave him an entirely different appearance. They were round and wire-framed, and frankly a lot more dorky than anything she would have expected James Potter to pick out. Despite all this (and as much as it pained her to admit it), they suited him quite well. The strong line of his jaw combined with the darkness of his eyes behind the glass gave an overall air of intellect and maturity—much more so than his usual pretty-boy musician look.

Noticing her extended eye contact, James raised his brows. "I know I'm attractive, Firecracker, but at least make an effort to control yourself."

"Please, don't make me laugh," Lily shot back, opening up a drawer and rummaging around for the spatula. "I was just wondering whose Grandpa you had to mug to get your hands on such a hideous pair of specs." She had barely finished speaking when there was a loud _bang_ from the doorway. Five heads spun around to see Petunia standing there, jaw hanging open and eyes bugging out of her head. She had dropped her pink plastic bowl on the floor, and it bounced noisily across the linoleum, finally coming to rest by the edge of the dishwasher.

"..._James_?" She sounded absolutely horrified. "What happened to you?"

Somewhat uneasily, James readjusted his glasses. "You mean these?" He received a dazed sort of a head nod in response. "Er, my contacts broke."

"You wear contacts?" Petunia whispered, as though he had just announced that he had a life-threatening illness. Looking deeply troubled, she studied his new appearance. "Well, is there any way you can fix them?"

"Probably not." James shrugged. "Sirius stepped on them; they're pretty much done for."

At this, Petunia shot a hideous glare at Sirius, as though it was his fault that her idol suddenly looked like a regular human being rather than a flawless rock star. Then, anxiously, she turned back to James. "Can't you glue them back together or something?" she demanded, sounding a bit hysterical. "Or maybe we can get you some new ones. I'll call the optometrist..."

At this point she actually made a move to pick up the phone, which Lily snatched out of her reach in annoyance. Any chance to see a Marauder cut down was usually a blessing, but in this case she simply couldn't believe her sister's shallowness. Considering she had plans to marry the guy, her "undying love" for James seemed pretty conditional.

"Don't be such an idiot, Petunia. He'd have to go in for an assessment, and we can't exactly take him out into the streets." When James shot her a look of gratitude, she added: "Looking like _that_, I mean."

Sirius snorted into his orange juice.

James adjusted his spectacles indignantly, though there was mild amusement written on his face. "Insult them all you want, but I'll have you know these are _designer _glasses—custom prescription. So there."

"Yeah, _designed_ by a bum on the streets," Sirius quipped, grinning stupidly. "Am I right, Lulu?" He put his hand up in the air expectantly, but Lily just raised her eyebrows and did not cross the space between them. Sirius let his hand fall back down in defeat. "Can't expect me to be at the top of my game—haven't even had my coffee," he grumbled.

"Yeah, what's for breakfast?" Peter chimed in. "I'm starving." As if to accentuate this point, his stomach let out a growl of epic proportions.

Yawning, Lily skimmed over the Marauders' four faces; they were all looking expectantly at her, sitting around the table as though they were dining in a restaurant and Lily was their waitress. Suddenly, she felt annoyed. "You know, you don't always have to wait around for me to make stuff for you. How come no one ever helps themselves to breakfast?"

"Twiggie does," said Sirius, pointing to the side of the kitchen where Petunia was rummaging around in the pantry for her box of granola.

Lily eyed the pot of non-fat yoghurt sitting beside her sister's pink bowl with distaste. "That's not breakfast," she retorted.

Despite her irritation, she wound up scrambling a few eggs and shoving some bread into the toaster to feed the Marauders. Her preparation of the food was rather careless—she made sure to burn four out of the five slices of toast before shovelling some egg on top of them unevenly. Harry jumped up onto the table just as Lily was sitting down to eat, and Petunia let out a little shriek.

"Ew! Get him off the table, Lily!" She shielded her bowl against her chest, glaring at the cat as he padded over to James and sniffed at his plate. James, ignoring Petunia entirely, picked up a piece of egg and offered it to Harry, who ate it gladly and brushed up against his hand.

Lily watched with a smirk as Petunia regarded the scene with wide, distressed eyes. She wondered how much longer it would be before her sister realized that the James she had cooked up in her mind was nothing like the pizza-eating, glasses-wearing, cat-feeding James Potter who existed in the real world. Not long, she supposed, if things kept progressing at this rate.

Despite the less-than-satisfactory state of their breakfast, the Marauders shovelled everything down in no time at all. They even asked for seconds, at which point Lily stationed James in front of a frying pan, spatula in hand, and painstakingly directed him in the art of egg-scrambling.

"Anything I can do to help?" said Sirius as he barged eagerly into the space behind the counter. "I've been told I'm quite the fiend in the kitchen."

"Yeah, because he blew up the kitchenette in a hotel we stayed at last year," James informed Lily. "Trust me, you don't want him touching anything."

"Oh, come on, it was only a small fire..."

"Yeah, small enough for a full evacuation and three fire squads."

Lily tossed a bag of bread into Sirius' hands. "Think you can manage toast?"

Sirius grinned. "Only the best damn toast you've ever tasted. Move it, Prongsie," he said, shoving his way into the corner.

James shifted slightly, and prodded at the eggs in the pan a few times. "Lily, are these done?"

Something in his words felt odd, and it took Lily a few seconds to realize that that had possibly been the first time that James Potter had called her by something other than Firecracker. Her name sounded distinctly melodic coming from his lips, she noted absently, as he twisted around and looked at her expectantly from his station by the stove.

"Let's see," she replied. Since Sirius was dominating the corner where the toaster was located, there wasn't much space left around the stovetop. She was forced to squeeze in between the two of them, her arm pressed up against James' side. Leaning in, she peered at the yellow scramble in the frying pan and raised her eyebrows appraisingly. "That's actually really good," she said. "You can turn off the burner now. Just there..." She reached out a hand to the dial, right as James did, and their fingers connected. As it happened, Lily lifted her head reflexively and found herself looking up into his eyes, noticing just how close they were. James was staring down at her with a similar intensity.

"Excuse me." Something bony pushed between the two of them, forcing them to step apart. Sirius made a noise of annoyance as Lily stumbled into his back and everyone turned to see Petunia forcefully reaching for the salt shaker, which was sitting on the ledge above the stove.

"Urgh..." Lily extracted herself from the congestion, taking several steps toward the opposite side of the kitchen. "Petunia, what are you doing?"

Her sister's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as her hand curled around the glass container. "Just getting the salt," she responded, yanking it from the shelf.

Lily looked at the half-eaten bowl of granola and yoghurt that was sitting on the table and made a face. "For _that_?"

Eyes shifting from the white granular substance to her breakfast, Petunia looked momentarily lost. Then, she cleared her throat. "No, I just wanted to... polish it." She rubbed the edge of her sleeve along the glass, and then held it out at arm's length. "There, all done."

"Er, Lulu? There's something wrong with your toaster." Sirius was holding up two gooey pieces of what Lily assumed to be toast.

"What did you do?" she demanded, marching over to inspect them at closer proximity. What she saw was an absolute disaster. One of the slices of bread was saturated with soggy grease while the other was slathered in the dripping remains of what appeared to be melted peanut butter. Neither looked the least bit toasted. "What did—Did you put stuff on those_ before_ you put them in the toaster?"

Sirius looked confused. "Isn't that how you do it?"

Clapping a hand to her forehead, Lily grabbed the abominations from his hands and dumped them unceremoniously into the garbage. "Get out of the kitchen."

"Aww, but—"

"Go help Petunia polish the pepper shaker or something."

"Here." Remus, who had been sitting at the table, walked over to the toaster and picked up the bag of bread. "I'll do it."

Lily sized him up and decided that if there was one Marauder she trusted to be sensible in the kitchen, it was Remus Lupin. "Thanks," she said.

"Sirius, I can't believe you just fucked up _toast_," James commented, snorting.

"I blame faulty equipment," Sirius shot back, slumping down at the table. He glanced over at Peter, who had his phone in his lap under the table. "Are you texting someone?"

Peter's head jerked up. "No. Er, just playing Tetris."

"Really?" said James, who was leaning against the counter now. "You're on the run from the world's most dangerous business tycoon and you're so bored you're playing _Tetris_? Wow."

"Speaking of our little problem," Remus put in, "don't you reckon we should be working on some sort of plan? I mean, not that I don't appreciate this arrangement we've got here, but we've been doing an awful lot of sitting around lately." The toaster popped, and he began spreading margarine onto the golden brown slices.

Sirius scoffed. "Speak for yourself, mate. I think I've pulled a hamstring from all this DDR."

James, on the other hand, was in agreement. "Actually, Moony's got a point. DeMort's on the move, obviously—it'd be a stupid of us to just do nothing. Where do you want these, Lily?"

"On that plate's fine," she responded, watching as he dumped the eggs out of the pan and onto the platter. "What do you say we take this stuff down to the basement and have another go at making a plan?"

"Do we have to?" Petunia asked. "The air down there makes my skin all clammy and gross."

"In that case, full steam ahead," Sirius said, rising to his feet and making a beeline for the basement door. Petunia looked affronted for a moment, until she saw James following behind with a stack of plates and some cutlery. Instantly, she skipped along behind him, disappearing into the cavernous depths that lay beyond the wooden doorway.

"Here, I'll get that." Remus grabbed the plate of scrambled eggs from Lily's hand, where she had been struggling to balance it along with the toast and a jug of orange juice.

"Thanks," she said, offering a smile. Then, in a lower voice: "By the way, how are you feeling?"

Remus shrugged. "A little better, I suppose. It's just hard, being away and trying to keep on top of my diet and insulin—I think that's why I've been worse than usual lately."

Lily nodded in understanding. "Is it sugar you need?"

"Usually," Remus said. "Not always. I mostly just have to be really careful—you know, regulate everything I eat. But sometimes I get these attacks, when my blood sugar just drops like a rock... and that's never good."

Lily bit her lip. "God, that sounds awful... You know, if there's anything you need, I can go out to the shops for it. Or send Petunia, but if I asked her to get lollies she'd probably stage a mutiny and buy vegetables instead."

Remus smirked. "I've noticed you're a little short on sweets around here."

"Tell me about it," said Lily, rolling her eyes. "Dad and I have been fighting a losing battle for years. Anyway, basement?"

Remus nodded, and the two of them carried the rest of the breakfast items downstairs.

The other four were already organized around the coffee table when they arrived at the foot of the staircase. Sirius and James were sitting on the floor, on top of the sleeping bags that were still spread out over the carpet, while Petunia and Peter were arranged on the worn couch. As Remus and Lily joined them, setting the food on the centre of the tabletop, Sirius lifted up his video camera with a wide grin.

"This is July twelfth, two-thousand-and-ten." He spoke in a deep, documentary-esque voice. "We have just had our second breakfast delivered and now intend to spend the morning devising a brilliant plan to exterminate Valentino DeMort."

"Exterminate?" James repeated sceptically, but he was drowned out as Petunia groaned and raised her arms in front of her face.

"Put that away," she grumbled. "I haven't done my makeup yet."

Grinning wider, Sirius rose to his feet and shoved the thing in her face. "Wow, look at all those blocked pores..."

"Guys." Remus sounded tired. "Can we be serious here? We're running out of time to come up with something—_anything_—to get Val off of our tails."

"You know why? Because it's bloody impossible," Sirius retorted. He returned to his spot on the floor, camera still recording. "Can't we eat first?"

Apparently, no one was willing to dispute this suggestion. Everyone—except Petunia, who was busy checking her pores in a pocket mirror—loaded up their plates with eggs and toast. Nobody said much while they were eating, which made Lily wonder if the Marauders were delaying the inevitable discussion. Or, she supposed, they were just being teenage boys—so focused on food that nothing else mattered for the time being.

Within a few minutes the plates were empty, the scraps taken care of (mostly by Sirius) and the whole gang ready for business.

"I hereby call this meeting to order," said Sirius loudly, banging his fist down on the coffee table so that the dishes rattled. "Moony dearest, you've got brains—what say you?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "You'd think we were playing hide-and-go-seek with the Easter Bunny," he said drily. "Honestly, we keep trying to make a plan, but what is there we can we actually do_?_ I've got no idea where to even start."

"You can say that again," Lily agreed. "It's not exactly your typical summertime dilemma. I'd usually be debating which bathers to wear out on the lake by this point, not plotting an escape from an evil tycoon."

James caught her eye and looked for a moment as though he might make an inappropriate comment, but he turned away quickly and cleared his throat. "That's the thing—how do you escape a mastermind like DeMort? It's not as though he's going to just forgive and forget if we wait it out long enough."

"That's why we have to _do_ something," Remus said, slapping a fist into his palm to illustrate his point. It was clear that their lack of progress—maybe combined with his illness—was beginning to wear at the quiet Marauder's patience. "We need some way of taking Val out of the picture."

"Anyone know of any hitmen up for hire?"

"Padfoot, if you're not going to take this seriously, then shut up."

"It was a valid suggestion!"

"What about... prison?" Lily spoke up, hoping she didn't sound too insane. It was an idea that had been burning in the back of her mind for a little while now, and now seemed as good a time as any to share it with the others. "From the sounds of things, his criminal record isn't exactly spotless. If we could just dig up some proof, some solid evidence, then we might be able to make a good enough case to get him convicted."

"That's actually a fair idea," Remus commented after a moment's thought. "Only problem is, how exactly do we manage that? I mean, this isn't Law and Order, and Val's been avoiding the authorities for years already. What are a bunch of teenagers going to be able to do?"

Silence followed this statement, and the magnitude of the task at hand seemed to sink in for everyone present. Lily deflated visibly, slumping into the couch back as James rested his head in his hands and Petunia began to jiggle her leg anxiously.

"It's too big," Peter finally said, sounding resigned. "Too much. We don't stand a chance."

He was right, of course, but they couldn't think that way. They had to stay positive. They had to...

"I think we need to regroup and lift our spirits a little," Lily announced, pushing herself off of the couch and resting her hands on her hips.

Sirius snapped the tiny screen closed on his video camera and jumped up. "I agree, and besides, this is making a really boring documentary. Let's do something fun."

* * *

"But I _hate_ soccer," Petunia complained as the six of them headed out to the field, a beat-up ball from Lily's old summer camp in hand.

"You hate everything," Sirius countered in irritation, stealing the words right out of Lily's mouth.

"Not _everything_." Petunia's gaze floated back toward James, who was walking several feet behind in casual conversation with Remus. He paid her no attention at all.

Once they reached the approximate centre of the field, the group stopped.

"How are we going to do teams?" Lily asked.

She'd barely finished her sentence when Peter shouted "DibsonPadfootandProngs!" and pumped his fist victoriously once the words were out. "Guess that leaves you three," he said snottily, gesturing at Remus, Lily and Petunia.

"I'm not playing," whined Petunia, obviously even more put out now that she was on a team without her beloved. "I mean, look what I'm wearing! How am I supposed to run around in _this_?" It started as a gesture of exasperation, but as she turned in James' direction, it morphed into a none-too-subtle pose to show off her sky blue tunic and white capris. Lily was mildly surprised when James actually responded rather than avoiding Petunia's eager gaze as he usually did.

"Come on, live a little," he said. "Where's the fun in sports if you don't get a bit of dirt on your arse?"

Petunia was momentarily stunned. Then, her eyelashes began to flutter spasmodically as she melted into a puddle of love-struck goo right before their eyes. "I suppose I could play one game..."

Lily eyed her with poorly hidden disgust. The lengths Petunia was willing to go to in order to please James were increasingly frightening. She couldn't help but smirk internally, however, at the thought of her sister running around the field in her perfectly ironed white capris, chasing after a mud-stained ball.

This was going to be entertaining.

"So... teams?" Sirius reminded them, clearly keen to start playing.

Lily considered for a moment, and thought back to her years of soccer camp. "How about we pick team captains and have them choose?"

"I nominate you and James!" Petunia announced brightly. For a moment, the seemingly generous nature of this act surprised Lily, but then she realized that her sister's intent was likely to ensure that she and James would not be on the same team. Like she cared.

"Fine by me," she replied, shrugging to reinforce her nonchalance. If Petunia wanted to engage in her stupid manipulative behaviour, there was no sense trying to stop her. James, too, seemed to realize this, though he looked slightly disappointed as he moved to the front of the group.

"So James," Petunia said, trying to sound casual as she clasped her hands together and regarded him with big, hopeful eyes. "Who's your first pick?"

James grimaced. Her implications were blatantly obvious, and after several seconds, he raised his shoulders in a sort of defeat. "Er... okay fine, Petunia, I guess."

"Yay!" she exclaimed shrilly, clapping her hands together with glee as she scurried over to stand by his side. Lily was slightly surprised at the kindness that James was displaying here. She felt a rush of joy, however, when she realized that he had just selected probably the absolute worst player of them all for his team. Her competitive side fired up at the thought, and she sized up her choices with a critical eye.

Thanks to his overweight stature and general unpredictability, Peter was eliminated straight off the bat. Unless he possessed some amazing hidden talent for soccer, Lily was fairly certain she didn't want him on her team. She probably would have picked Remus if she weren't suddenly so eager to win; she actually got along with him, after all. But as her eyes travelled from his pale, stooped figure to the boy next to him, all abuzz with energy as he hopped from one foot to the other in anticipation, her decision was made.

"Sirius."

"Damn it," said James, just as Sirius made a loud whooping noise. He jogged to Lily's side and went for a high-five, which—in her state of battle-readiness—she reciprocated this time.

"We're gonna kick your arses, Tongs!" Sirius shouted to the other team. "See what I did there—Twiggie and Prongs?"

"Oh, God," Lily muttered. For as long as she could remember, Petunia had been seeking the perfect couple name for when she and James "finally got together." She'd cycled through "Jamestunia," " Pames," and several other abominations but had never been quite satisfied. In spite of the insulting nickname it incorporated and the fact that her least favourite Marauder had come up with it, Lily was sure Petunia would be thrilled with "Tongs."

Sure enough, Petunia's eyes were only briefly narrowed at Sirius before it dawned on her and a look of absolute glee crept up on her face. She edged closer to James, who gave a nervous laugh and sidestepped away from her.

"Great going, genius," said Lily quietly to her teammate. "That's going to keep her going for _weeks_."

When Sirius turned to her, he wore a sly grin. "Don't worry," he said in what was possibly the lowest voice she'd ever heard him use, "we all know it'll be _Longs_ in the end."

Lily's heart did something strange and painful in her chest at his very words, and she felt her cheeks reddening. Remembering Remus' inquiry from last night, she had to wonder just what kinds of things James had been sharing with his friends.

Then she stopped thinking about it, because it was all too confusing.

Lily shot Sirius a death glare and called out: "Oi, Tongs! Take your pick."

Remus was recruited by the awkward pair, while a deflated Peter joined the ranks of Lily and Sirius.

"Why do I always get picked last?" he said sullenly, dragging his feet over to his teammates.

"I imagine we're all having flashbacks to the last time you played soccer," Sirius responded. At Peter's blank look, he elaborated. "Remember? LA? You kept taking the ball down the wrong end of the field?"

"Yeah, and we would've won if you hadn't scored that goal for the other team," James reminded him, looking as though he was still a little bitter about the whole thing.

Peter crossed his arms. "That field was confusing. Anyway, I still scored, didn't I?"

"Guys," Remus said, "that happened last year. I think it may be time to move on."

"Just because you were on the team that won..." Sirius grumbled, but he dropped the topic nonetheless. He jogged on the spot for a moment and did a few bizarre warm-up exercises. "Alright, group huddle!" he called, grabbing Lily and Peter by their arms and yanking them toward him. Ignoring their cries of protest, he lowered his voice and said: "Here's the game plan. Pete you go goalie. Lulu... just try to pass the ball to me if you manage to get it. I'll take care of the rest."

Lily said nothing in response; she was too busy resisting the urge to scrape the condescending smirk off of his face.

A few minutes later, the other team had selected Remus to protect their goal, and he and Peter made their way to the tree trunks at either end of the field they had decided would act as goal posts. James dropped the ball into the centre of the grassy area, cracking his knuckles as he stepped back. "No hard feelings, alright?" he said to Lily. "I don't mean to boast, but I'm sort of good at this."

"Oh," said Lily. His arrogance was grating at her insides, but she kept as straight a face as possible. "I guess I'd better hope I at least win the coin toss, then." She fished a five pence coin out of the bottom of her pocket and held it out to James, who declined.

"You go ahead," he said sympathetically, as though he was granting her this one small victory.

"No, I insist," said Lily, stretching her arm out even farther. After a moment's hesitation, James shrugged and she dropped the coin into his palm, making absolute sure their fingers didn't touch.

"Tails," she called, watching as he flicked the circular piece of metal upwards and caught it in his hand, slapping it over into his other palm. He held it out to reveal the smooth ridges of the Queen's face.

"Ah, bad luck," he said, shrugging apologetically.

Again, Lily kept quiet as she stepped back from the centre of the field. Her anger was rising at the generally patronizing nature of the Marauders' tones, and as she watched James poise his foot by the side of the ball, she felt a familiar fire begin to rush through her veins.

The very second his ankle connected with the synthetic leather, Lily shot forward. He had barely an instant to react before she was sticking her foot out in a well-practiced move and pulling the ball from his grasp, grinning as she broke away. Petunia's terrible defensemanship combined with James' shock at having been so easily overthrown meant that it was an easy run to the end of the field, where she heaved an almighty kick and sent the ball soaring over Remus' outstretched arms.

When she turned around, everyone was staring at her. James and Sirius wore identically hilarious expressions of astonishment while Petunia looked on sourly with her arms crossed. Lily couldn't help but smirk a little at the Marauders' response. She'd been playing soccer every summer since the year she turned six, when Bob had enrolled both of his daughters in the local league. Petunia had quit after a disastrous first game culminating in a broken ankle, but Lily had never given it up. Several years of soccer camp had refined her skills even more, and she was rather proud of what she had managed to accomplish in the sport over the years.

"What the _hell_." Sirius was the first to recover from his stupor. "Why didn't you tell us you were bloody Mia Hamm?" Despite his accusatory tone, there was an enormous grin forming on his face.

Lily smiled, but did not reply. "Your kick," she said to James, nudging the ball that Remus had just returned over to him with her foot.

He was still staring at her intensely as he accepted it, though he seemed to have broken out of his initial state of shock. "Guess I won't be going so easy on you this time," he said, and then he was off like a shot, dribbling up the field with obvious prowess. Despite his slight head start, Lily caught up with him quickly and made several forceful attempts to intercept, none of which succeeded.

"James!" called Petunia, waving to him from by the goal. "Pass to me, I'm open!" Lily wondered if her sister even knew what those words meant, considering the fact that Sirius was standing right in front of her, guarding her aggressively as she spoke.

Perhaps to humour her, or else simply because he realized he couldn't fend off Lily's attacks for much longer, James sent the ball to Petunia with a swift kick. As it rolled toward her, there was a sort of sudden fear in her eyes, as though she was only now realizing that she might actually have to do something with it. Awkwardly, the muddy sphere met her feet, and Sirius wasted no time in setting in on her. Petunia, looking completely out of her element, squealed and kicked blindly at the ball, cowering away from her attacker.

What happened next could only be described as a miracle. After bouncing off of Petunia's toe, the soccer ball somehow managed to sail in a smooth arc toward the centre of the goal markers, where Peter was staring off into space, looking bored. It flew straight over his head.

"_What_?" Sirius' cry was full of outrage. "You've got to be kidding me! Wake up, Wormtail!"

Apparently Petunia had only just realized that she'd scored a goal. With an arrogant sort of joy stamped onto her face, she clapped her hands together obnoxiously and did a little jump. "Yay!" she cried, running toward James and flinging herself into his arms with a squeal.

Lily felt a strange prickling feeling creep underneath her skin as she watched James' arms encircle Petunia's tiny waist. It was a hesitant action on his part—likely the result of having been caught off-guard—but for some reason, Lily found it to be quite bothersome. Within several seconds, she was forced to look away, shifting her eyes to the right with disgust. Sirius, she noted, looked equally unimpressed with the display.

The game carried on, and Lily's desire to win did not dissipate in the slightest. In fact, it seemed to grow with each passing second as she ran down the field, staying on James like a hawk and ruthlessly harassing him whenever he got possession. James, too, appeared to be getting more and more worked up as the game progressed. Every time Lily stole the ball from him, his expression became increasingly frustrated, and his movements faster, more aggressive. The two of them had become engaged in a silent battle of epic proportions.

"This isn't fun anymore," Sirius finally complained after Lily took the ball down the field herself for what must have been the twentieth time. "Lulu, you're not being a team player."

Lily was so agitated in that moment that she simply came to an abrupt halt and booted the ball toward him violently. With an expression of shock that quickly became one of joy, Sirius caught it and carried it up the field for a few seconds before taking a big, overexcited shot at the goal. Despite his enthusiasm, the ball soared completely in the wrong direction and became lodged in an overgrown shrub.

After this, he gave up and stalked to the edge of the pitch with a bitter expression, eventually pulling out his video camera to amuse himself. Petunia had stopped playing long ago and had since trudged off the field in a huff, shooting Lily a death glare as she retreated to the more comfortable terrain that was the house. These departures left Lily and James in a heated one-on-one battle on the playing field. Lily couldn't explain why she had such a need to prove herself to him. Her lungs were burning from the ceaseless running, and her face flushed pink from the exertion, but still her determination did not fade. The pair of them wore identical expressions of fury as they chased one another around the grassy space, panting, grunting and cutting one another off with sharp movements. Finally, with an animalistic growl, Lily managed to pull the ball away from James' grasp and escape to the open grass, where she ran with all her might toward Remus' goal. Before she knew what was happening, however, there was an almighty cry of anger from behind her and she was bowled over by something hot and solid. She landed on her stomach, pinned to the ground by a heavily breathing figure. For a moment, she simply lay there in shock, trying to figure out what had happened. Then, whatever had landed on her rolled off in an urgent motion.

"Crap—Sorry! Lily, are you okay?" James was leaning over her, panting slightly. There were bits of grass in his unkempt hair, and his shirt was faintly damp with sweat. He looked as though he had just come to his senses after a psychotic episode.

Lily pushed herself up slowly, regarding him with narrowed eyes as she attempted to put two and two together and get her bearings. "Did you just... tackle me?"

He winced. "Sorry, got caught up in the moment," he replied, and then muttered something about forgetting that he was playing against a girl. "What?" he exclaimed at her look of displeasure. "You kick like a bloody man."

"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment," Lily responded dryly, raising a hand to her head.

James' eyes filled with concern. "Really though, are you alright?"

Lily sat up further, brushing dirt and grass off her legs. There was an angry red graze on one of her knees and a dull pounding in her head, but the adrenaline still coursing through her veins made these things all but insignificant. "Fine," she said, and when James continued to look uncomfortably at her bloody knee: "Relax, it's a little scratch—I'm not about to die."

"Prongs, you idiot, you killed Lulu!" Sirius yelled. He was running toward them, camera turned off but still firmly gripped in his hand. Peter and Remus, who had been jogging over from their respective ends of the pitch, arrived just as he did.

"Mate, I dunno what sport you're playing but there's no tackling in soccer," Remus said. "Not that kind, anyway."

"Seriously, it's not that big a deal," said Lily as Remus helped her to her feet.

"Actually," he said, "that's a yellow card at least. Not to mention a possible lawsuit if the press ever saw that on tape."

"One must never hit a lady," Peter concurred, seemingly forgetting that it was no longer Tuesday.

James, looking sheepish, turned to Lily. "Look, I really am sorry—I don't know what I was even thinking..."

"Silence, lady basher!" barked Sirius, holding up a hand. "And Pete, I dunno what you're on about. I seem to recall you kicking James in your sleep last night."

"Oy, uncalled for," James said, looking irritated as the others—Lily included— laughed noisily at his expense. A moment later, however, he broke down and spared a small chuckle, shaking his head along with them.

"Guys!" This shrill noise came from the direction of the house, and the five of them turned mid-laughing fit to see Petunia running urgently onto the field. The expression of absolute panic that she was wearing was enough to wipe the grins off of their faces immediately. As she came closer, Lily noticed the stark paleness of her sister's face, and the cordless phone that was clutched tightly in her hand.

As a strange sort of dread welled within her chest, Petunia finally came to a halt. For a moment, she put her hands on her knees stood there, gulping in huge lungfuls of air. Then, looking utterly distressed, she raised her head. "We have a problem."

* * *

**A/N: **Is there an award for the Lousiest Updaters Ever? (If you know of one, please nominate us for the honour). But seriously, we're sorry it took so long for us to put this together. You should know though that we've been working pretty hard on this chapter for the past couple of weeks. Despite both of us being back at university, this has been our main priority. In fact, the chapter switched hands so many times that the document containing one section of it ended up being called "EvelPotter (1) (1) (1) (1) (2) (2) (1) (3) (1)" (yeah, we're confused about the random number pattern too).

Anyway, for anybody interested, Liz made a Starstruck pseudo-trailer. To find it, just search "Starstruck by Seven Scribbles" on Youtube or click the link in our profile. It's not perfect (it was made very quickly) and Youtube decided to chop the ending off, but... but... Well, even if we can't think of any redeeming qualities right now, we promise it has some.

We'll try to be a bit more punctual with Chapter Eight. In the meantime... review? :D

Sinseerlie,

Liz and Sam

(_Seven Scribbles_)


	8. Twinkle, Twinkle: Part One

**Disclaimer:** Considering this is only a pathetic half-chapter, we figured we only owe you guys half a disclaimer. We don't own

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

Twinkle, Twinkle

* * *

"Well?" Lily eyed her sister impatiently. "What is it?"

Petunia took a moment to straighten up, clutching the phone to her chest in an overly dramatic fashion that was reminiscent of the soap operas that she and Teresa watched. She looked as though she was having trouble breathing. "That was Mum," she said, and then gasped in a breath of air. "She and Dad... leaving... coming back... tomorrow..." With an almighty sob, she wailed, "_What are we going to do?"_

Lily squinted and tried to make sense of her sister's garbled explanation. "Hold on, Petunia, what exactly did they say?"

But Petunia wasn't listening properly; she appeared to be having some sort of panic attack. "I tried to convince them," she lamented. "I tried to make them stay, but they wouldn't listen..." Shaking her head, she doubled over again in defeat.

"Petunia! " Lily snapped her fingers, and the sound seemed to get some shred of her sister's attention; she stared vacantly at Lily's face. "Tell me exactly what happened."

Petunia took a deep breath while the Marauders gathered round uneasily. "She's worried for some reason. Apparently the last time they called, _somebody_ sounded strange." She aimed a pointed look at Lily, who scoffed indignantly. "Anyway, they're... they're coming back tomorrow. Mum said they feel guilty being out there and leaving us here alone to _tear each other's throats out_." She framed the last five words in exaggerated air quotes.

"No kidding," Lily heard one of the boys mutter. The comment set her teeth on edge, but she channelled all her irritation at Petunia.

"But that's no reason to come home!" she said. "Why didn't you tell her she's being ridiculous?"

"I tried! I said we're actually having a good time, you know, baking cookies and doing chores and stuff, and they should just... s-stay there because everything's fine..."

Lily's hands balled up into fists. "Yes," she said through gritted teeth, wishing she'd been the one to take the phone call, "and I'm sure you handled that conversation just _excellently_."

"Lily!" Petunia whined, eyes brimming with tears. "I _tried!_ She wouldn't listen—they've already made up their minds." Her bottom lip quivered so violently it seemed as though her face might explode.

"Argh!" Lily slapped both hands to her forehead. "Well, this is just great. This is _just_ what we need."

"Stop acting like it's all my fault!" Petunia's tone was bordering on hysterical. She crossed her arms roughly and narrowed her eyes, forcing the tears that were gathering there dangerously close to spilling over. "Why do you suddenly care so much, anyway? I'd've thought you'd be _overjoyed_."

Lily's barely had a chance to consider Petunia's surprising use of vocabulary when she realized that her sister actually had a point. Why _did _she care? Bob and Teresa coming back meant a return to the regular summer she had so been craving—TV with her dad, lazy summer walks to the park, and most importantly, no Marauders hanging around to stir up chaos. But also...

"It's not about that anymore," she said haltingly. "If Mum and Dad find out, they'll go mental—but we can't exactly just send them on their way, can we? It's... we're too involved now, and Val DeMort's out there, and... where would they go, anyway?"

"If I may?" Sirius cut in, and Lily realized that the Marauders had been acting oddly relaxed about the whole situation up until this point. "First of all, your concern is touching, Lulu. Truly." Overcome with false emotion, he placed a hand on her arm.

Lily brushed it off immediately and stepped away in disgust. "... And it's gone already."

"But as I was saying," he carried on, unfazed, "You underestimate our power. We'll take care of this."

Petunia turned to him, surprise showing through her tears. "You can fix this?"

"Please, Twiggie. Piece of cake. You're thinking what I'm thinking, right James?" He turned smugly toward his bandmate.

"Yeah, reckon I am," James replied with a grin.

Sirius turned back toward the girls with crossed arms while Remus and Peter exchanged a meaningful glance. "We're going to need your parents' phone number."

"And a phone," Peter added.

Lily made a face, unable to fathom what they were planning. "Hang on, what are you going to do?"

Sirius tapped the side of his nose. "Secret Marauder business, Lulu."

She raised her eyebrows. "I don't know if I should trust that."

"No, really, we've got this," said James, exchanging a fist bump with Sirius. "Done it plenty of times. Don't even worry—just sit back and let the experts handle it."

Still unsure, Lily looked to Remus for confirmation, but the quiet Marauder just shook his head as if to say "Let them do their thing."

So Lily shrugged in resignation and led the way inside, where the air conditioning rose up like a heavenly wall to greet their grungy, sport-strained bodies. Once the door was closed behind them, Petunia delivered the phone into James' hands as if it were some precious baby bird, and the two dark-haired Marauders disappeared into the basement to do whatever it was they were planning to do.

"Should I be concerned?" Lily asked Remus as she moved to grab a pitcher of water from the fridge.

"Nah," Remus smiled a shrewd grin, "but I'd take their 'expertise' with a grain of salt."

"James knows what he's doing," Petunia sniffed as she removed her shoes and set them neatly beside the door.

Instead of replying, Remus merely raised his eyebrows in a "sure, whatever you say," sort of manner.

Feeling less-than-comforted, Lily opened the cupboard. "Water, anyone?"

"Please," Remus replied.

Petunia came around the counter and picked up the chilled container, examining it through narrowed eyes. "Is that the pitcher that had cordial in it before?"

"I don't know... Who cares?" Lily made a face to convey the ridiculousness of such a question.

Petunia set it back down on the counter. "Never mind. No thanks," she said, and then moved to fill her own glass from the tap.

Lily shook her head slightly. "Peter?" she asked, turning to address the boy, who was looking out the back window, tapping his hands against the window pane. "Water?"

"Oh, sure," he replied.

Lily dished out the refreshments and was just raising her glass to her lips when the basement door swung open and James and Sirius emerged. "That was quick," she commented.

The boys exchanged identical smirks. "What did I tell you?" Sirius said in a lofty voice. "We know what we're doing."

"Yeah, we've heard," Lily replied. "So what now?"

"Now?" James cracked his fingers with a smug grin. "We just wait for the phone call."

* * *

There was no phone call.

After more than two hours, it became apparent that the cordless phone, cowering under the pressure of six expectant gazes where it sat in the centre of the table, was not going to ring. Hopeful looks became hopeless stares, and eventually, a dejected air settled over the table.

"That's it," Lily finally burst out, unable to withstand playing another minute of this pointless waiting game. "Clearly... " she gestured carelessly, "...whatever the hell you did failed. We need a new plan."

Sirius, who had been shooting a balled-up piece of paper around with his fingers, looked up and immediately became defensive. "They could still—"

"No." Remus raised his head from where it had been resting in his arms. "It would've happened by now, mate. It didn't work."

"I hate to say it, but I agree." James admitted defeat with a sigh.

If Petunia had been a jittery mess before, James' words sent her into a state bordering on cardiac arrest. She gave a little squeak, sitting bolt upright in her chair. "What do we do then?"

"There's not much we _can _do, short of magically closing all the roads into Gryffindale," Lily said.

Something sparked in Sirius' eye and he became contemplative. Then, he raised his hand, opening his mouth to speak.

"No," Remus cut him down bluntly.

"We could just go back to the barn," Peter pointed out. "I wouldn't mind."

"Wouldn't _mind_?" Sirius gripped the table with fierce hands. "Wormtail, do I need to remind you of the spiders... the dirt... how we nearly _died...?"_

"It wasn't _that _bad."

"No," Lily interjected, remembering the time, after she'd sent the Marauders away, when she'd found them huddled out there, sickly, hopeless and lost. "Let's be realistic—hiding you in the barn isn't going to work for any length of time. Even if that thing weren't about to collapse in on itself—"

"About to?" Sirius scoffed. "It already fucking _did_."

"No thanks to _someone_," Lily retorted. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that Mum and Dad would get suspicious eventually. As a long-term plan it's pretty shoddy. What we really need is more time, and since you lot"—she saved a hand at James and Sirius, who looked sheepishly at the table—" couldn't get it, we're going to have to think of something else... like, right now."

"Alright, well..." James put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on them. "We need to convince them to stay where they are. What's an offer that your parents wouldn't be able to resist?"

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Like an event?"

"Yeah. Or anything, really."

"A health food convention!" Petunia exclaimed, as though it was the answer to all of their problems.

Lily whipped around to stare at her with sceptical eyes. "You've got to be kidding me. That'd have Dad begging to come home. It's needs to be something like... an auto show."

"Yes, because I'm sure Mum would just _love _that," Petunia threw back. "How about a yoga seminar?"

Lily snorted, trying to imagine her father sitting in lotus position. It did not compute. "No way. A hamburger eating contest, maybe."

Petunia simply looked horrified.

"Do your parents have _anything _in common?" Sirius asked.

There was a long silence. "Their room?" Petunia finally suggested. It was a fairly dim-witted answer, but even so, the moment after the words left her mouth, something seemed to occur to her.

"Oh no," Lily warned. "No. We are not snooping."

"It might help us find something they both like, though. You know they keep all their favourite things under their bed..."

Lily chewed her lip. "It wouldn't be right."

"Well, do you have a better idea?"

She really didn't. And with less than twenty-four hours until their parents would be on the road, they were running out of time for deliberation. If Teresa had her mind set on coming home, it would take more than a few words of reassurance to change her mind; they needed a real, solid plan. Something that would keep Bob and Teresa in cottage country, or at least out of the picture, for as long as necessary. Their suggestions thus far were weak, Lily had to admit—unlikely to work in the first place, let alone buy them a decent amount of time. It was time to get serious. If they had to get nosy to get any real ideas, well... it was for a good cause, right?

Lily sighed. "Fine," she conceded. "I guess we could have a peek, but you four are going to have to stay here," she told the Marauders sternly. "And... don't try anymore of your stupid ideas while we're gone."

"Aye aye, Captain," Sirius replied, giving a highly sarcastic salute.

Petunia and Lily climbed the stairs in silence and filed into Bob and Teresa's room when they reached the upper landing. It was darkened; the blinds were pulled down and the entire space smelled faintly of Teresa's perfume. The familiar scent unleashed a brief but painful sense of longing in Lily's chest, and she realized that she missed her parents a lot more than she cared to admit. From the melancholy look on her sister's face, Petunia did too.

Lily flicked the light switch, shedding a bright white hue onto the neatly-made mahogany bed, and the two of them examined the array of furnishings before them. Neither of them seemed to want to make the first move. Finally, Petunia took a few steps forward and dropped to her knees by the bed, shifting the covers out of the way so that she could look underneath. Trying to quash her feelings of guilt and unease, Lily reluctantly followed suit.

The space under the bed was a metropolis of differently shaped, dust-covered boxes, and Lily promptly let out an enormous sneeze.

"Eww!" Petunia squealed, shaking her arm around wildly and then brushing it off with frantic sweeping motions. "Cover your nose, Lily, that's—tha'ss—_Achoo!_" She sneezed with such force that she was physically pushed back a few inches on the floor.

Shooting her sister a dull look that screamed _hypocrite_, Lily swept her hair across her face and breathed through it in hopes that it might filter some of the dust out. As she contemplated where exactly to start, there was a dragging sound, and she glanced over to see that Petunia was already pulling a dusty shoebox out from under the bed.

"Aww, look." Her sister had pulled the lid off to reveal an assortment of old photographs. The one sitting on top of the stack was of the two of them—Lily couldn't have been much old than four or five—sitting on the front porch in garishly-patterned dresses and eating popsicles. Lily's freckled face was smeared with sticky red liquid as she grinned enthusiastically into the camera, while Petunia was perched elegantly on the steps, holding the treat out to the side as she smiled.

Lily grimaced. "Oh god, I look ridiculous."

"No, you look cute," Petunia replied absently, and then seemed to realize what she had said and hastily flipped over to the next picture. This time, it was the two girls with a young Vernon Dursley, all straddling bikes in the Evans' driveway.

"Huh, Vern was actually a cute kid, wasn't he?" Lily marvelled, slightly taken aback by the healthy colour of his skin.

Petunia looked mildly horrified. "No," she said, and promptly flipped the photograph over.

Just like that, whatever strange bubble they had momentarily slipped into was broken. "Whatever, this isn't helping," Lily said. "Put those away."

Petunia did so quite willingly, shoving the box into a deeper, darker realm of the under-the-bed cavern than it had previously occupied. They continued their search.

As they progressed from gingerly picking through piles of their parents' belongings to more ruthlessly opening and closing things, it became clear that their efforts were in vain. If they were hoping to uncover the key to both parents' hearts, they certainly weren't going to do so by combing through baby clothes, videotapes, stacks of magazines, and unfashionable memorabilia (at one point, Petunia disgustedly held up an old, patched cowboy hat that had, Lily imagined, been banished by Teresa but tucked away for sentimental reasons). And when Lily came across a shoebox of hand-written letters, she began to feel quite silly and slammed it shut, reeling back guiltily like a child stealing candy.

"This is stupid," she said to Petunia. And then, hopelessly: "Have you found anything?"

Her sister had been oddly quiet, and Lily turned to see her examining a large, faded square of paper. "What is that?" she asked.

With a little snort, Petunia spun the thing around. It was a poster. In its centre, a good-looking man with wavy blonde locks and a winning, white-toothed smile winked brazenly at them. The name 'Gilderoy' was spelled out in block letters across the base of the image.

"Oh dear lord..." It had been a while since Lily had thought about Teresa's love for eighties pop sensation and heartthrob Gilderoy. At one point, she imagined her mother's obsession may even have rivalled Petunia's chronic Marauderitis. "D'you reckon Dad knows this is here?"

"I doubt it," Petunia replied. She was still looking at the poster with critical eyes. "I don't even know why Mum likes him so much. Didn't they discover that his music was all ripped off from other people?"

"Who knows," Lily said disinterestedly; celebrity gossip wasn't exactly the type of news that she tended to follow. Dusting her hands off, she let out a sigh. "I don't think we're going to find anything useful here."

Petunia began to roll the poster back up at a painfully slow rate. "You're probably right," she admitted as she stowed it under the bed. "Maybe James has thought of a better idea..."

_I highly doubt it_, Lily was tempted to throw back. Defeated, the two of them returned everything to its place and exited the room, dragging their feet down the stairs.

"So?" James asked the moment they appeared in the kitchen. He and the rest of the Marauders were still sitting around the table. "Did you find anything?"

Lily slumped into a chair. "Not unless we want to lure them away with a mouldy old hat and a Gilderoy poster."

Something flickered in the eyes of all four boys.

"Gilderoy...?" Remus finally repeated, his tone casually requesting an elaboration.

"Er, yes. Mum's a fan."

Sirius twisted around with amusement in his eyes. "Your mum's a Gilderite? Jeez, that explains Twiggie—_Oy_!" He bucked forward a little as Petunia kicked his chair.

"What the hell is a Gilderite?"

"Gilderoy fan, Lulu. Get with the times."

She regarded him sceptically. "The 'times'? He's been washed up since like... 1990."

"Damn right," said James, "and a fraud, too—though you'd have a hard time convincing the Gilderites of that."

"They never proved anything," Peter threw in, but when the others turned their dubious gazes on him he went red and looked down at his thumbs.

"In any case," said Remus, "the washed up fraud is supposed to be doing a revival tour this summer. Does your mum know about that?"

Lily and Petunia looked at each other; both shrugged.

"Dunno," Lily said. "But even if she did, I don't reckon she'd be hoping to go. He'd be playing in London, and Mum has something against—"

"Wasting all that gas for _just a concert_," Petunia finished bitterly. "That's why I've never been to see you lot before, you know."

"Yes, you've mentioned," said Sirius.

"Lily..." Gears were visibly turning in Remus' head. He raised a hand to his jaw as he turned toward her. "What if he were to... say... add another stop to his tour—one that was close to your lake house. Do you reckon she'd be interested then?"

"Absolutely," Petunia jumped in before Lily could even open her mouth.

"Sure," Lily agreed. "But don't you think that's a little... farfetched?"

The Marauders exchanged a look.

"Under normal circumstances, yes," Remus said, "but we actually sort of have a connection that might come in handy."

"Hagrid, our bodyguard," James explained. "He used to work for Gilderoy way back in the day and, dense as he is sometimes, he's got some influence. He could probably convince old Gildy that playing at a country venue is like, the optimal move for his nonexistent career."

"Really?" said Lily thoughtfully, just as Petunia squealed "James, you're a genius!" and shot up out of her chair to wrap her arms around his neck from behind.

James looked uneasy but otherwise seemed to ignore his newly acquired parasite. "Well, who knows if it'll actually work. Even if we can get the concert set up, your parents would have to be game. Do you think they'd go for it?"

"Yes!" said Petunia immediately.

"Mum, maybe," Lily corrected, "but Dad? There's no way in hell."

Petunia, still hugging James, looked sulky.

"Do we need to come up with something else for your dad, then?" Remus asked.

Lily shook her head, sighing. "That'll be too much. I mean, Mum would try to convince him, probably, and I don't reckon he'd be too keen on her going alone. Maybe we should just leave it to fate?"

"Trust me," said Petunia, smirking. "Mummy loves Gilderoy. She'll find a way."

"So we're doing this?" Sirius chimed in excitedly.

James looked to Lily for confirmation; she shrugged and answered: "It's worth a shot, I s'pose."

"Excellent," said Sirius, rubbing his fingers together. "You can count on us, Lulu!"

"And you're doing a peachy job of proving that so far. Just don't screw it up this time, please?"

Remus chuckled, slapping his bandmate on the shoulder. "I'll make sure of it."

"Alrighty then," said James. "We'll just have to make a few calls to set things up."

Something occurred to Lily right then. "Are you sure you should be calling people?" she wondered. "I mean... is it safe—to be communicating, that is?"

The Marauders looked uncertainly at one another but seemed to reach a consensus, which James voiced.

"It might be a risk if somebody intercepted or overheard, but if there's one person in the world who would never sell us out, it's Hagrid. Honestly, I'd trust that man with my life."

The others nodded.

"'Course," said Sirius, "it helps that he's not _actually_ a man—he's a bloody giant."

"Half-giant, at least," agreed James, quite serious. "This one time, we were getting swarmed by fans and Hagrid lifted at least ten of them off the ground at once and put them on the other side of the guard rail. It was insane."

At this comment, Petunia the Parasite giggled shrilly into his ear, blatantly unaware that Hagrid's services would, in fact, be quite useful right now.

"_Anyway_," said Remus, "we'd better get going on this or it'll be too late."

Lily nodded. "Alright. You guys do your thing." She nudged the phone across the table for James to take. He flashed her a grin and picked it up, dislodging Petunia as he got to his feet.

As the Marauders made their way into the living room, the elder Evans sister was content to stand dazedly where James had deposited her and watch his retreating back with a dreamy expression on her face.

Behind her, Lily felt her knuckles tighten slightly around the edges of her chair as some sort of dull fire rose in her stomach. Then, in an abrupt motion, she rose to her feet and stalked into the kitchen.

* * *

At around six-thirty that evening, the mellow, electronic ringing of the phone finally burst the tension in the kitchen. Naturally, they'd spent the afternoon watching the clock, twiddling their thumbs in the lounge, and engaging in DDR rematches and other such fruitless activities—but the moment Lily had served up everyone's dinner and was just raising her own fork for the first bite, the sound of the phone sliced into the silence and snapped everyone to attention.

Lily glanced at her sister, whose bony shoulders were hunched nervously over her garden salad, before letting her fork fall with a clatter. "I'll get it," she said tonelessly. Five sets of eyes followed her as she stood to pick up the phone. "...Hello?"

"Lily!" Teresa sounded faintly breathless. "How are you?"

"Hey, Mum. Fine." She moved the phone to her other ear, feeling strangely on edge.

"_Is that the girls?_"Bob's voice projected from the grainy background. "_I thought we agreed to talk about this a bit more before_—"

"_It's Lily. Shush, you can talk to her in a minute_."

"_Here, do that speakerphone thinger-ma-jig..."_

Lily flinched as several shrill bleeps erupted from the earpiece.

_"Bob, for heaven's sake, it's _that _button..."_

"Hello?" Bob said loudly. "Can you hear me?"

Lily smothered a smile. "Hey Dad."

"Hi, Lilybear," he said, sounding weary and relieved. "How's everything?"

"Um, alright I guess. Just eating dinner." She glanced back at the table, where in fact Petunia and the Marauders were not eating, but perfectly statuesque and watching her with wide, expectant eyes. Even though her heart was thrumming with anticipation, Lily made every effort to sound oblivious. "What's going on? You guys checked up on us like, just this morning."

James flashed her a thumbs up of approval, but Lily turned her back on the table in order to concentrate.

"Yes, well, there's been a bit of a change of plans...," Bob started. He sounded less than thrilled about it.

Teresa cut in. "We wouldn't stay any longer if it weren't _absolutely _necessary—"

"That's a bit of a stretch," said Bob.

"Oh shush, Robert." Bob fell silent, but could be vaguely heard in the background muttering something about a "pompous windbag" and "the eighties all over again." Lily took this as a good sign.

"Lily," said Teresa, speaking faster and significantly higher than her daughter was used to. "It's— well, you won't believe it, but _Gilderoy_— he's, he's come out of retirement and he_just_ added a stop to his revival tour, and it's going to be _right here!_ In Ravenclaw Woods!"

Lily was taken aback by the level of enthusiasm in her mother's voice. She knew Teresa had been totally, one hundred percent, perhaps even Marauderette-style infatuated with Gilderoy at one stage in her life, but she'd assumed it would've died down some by her late forties. And yet here Teresa was, practically hyperventilating and babbling like an airhead sixteen-year-old. Lily realized she should be ashamed of her family, but for the time being, the fangirling tendencies that apparently ran in the Evanses' blood were possibly an advantage.

"Wow, Mum, that's really amazing," Lily said. "So... are you and Dad going to go?"

Bob sounded a little hesitant. "Well, that's—"

"Yes!" Teresa's voice overpowered him. "We've already been contacted with an opportunity for discounted VIP tickets—apparently they're offering them to all the land owners up here. Isn't it wonderful?"

There was a sarcastic "_Absolutely_ _marvellous," _in the background.

"I was talking to Lily, Robert."

Actually, neither one of them particularly seemed to be talking to Lily. She felt like she had picked up an extra handset and intruded upon a phone call between the two of them. Following this thought, she cleared her throat loudly and asked, "So, when is the concert, then?"

"Next Saturday," was Teresa's reply. Her voice took on a more serious note as she continued. "Now, Lily, I know we said we'd be coming home tomorrow, but... well, we may just stay for the rest of our trip as we'd planned and then come home after the concert."

"Anything for _Gilderoy_," Bob added darkly.

"Robert, don't act as though you aren't getting anything out of this."

"Yes, honey, and mark my words: I'm going to stuff myself sick at the all-you-can-eat buffet just for you."

"Be my guest; you'll be the one hunched over the toilet bowl the next day."

Lily was suddenly struck by how ironic Teresa's concerns about her and Petunia were. They probably had far more reason to worry about their parents ripping each other's throats out at the moment than the other way around.

"So you're both staying until next Saturday?" she asked, just to make absolute sure everything was in order.

"Yes, both of us," Teresa said emphatically. "I did tell your father I could get a ride back with the Kerrigans if he wanted to give it a miss—"

"And just let you go prancing after your teenage crush? Please, Teresa."

"Robert, you are being completely ridiculous."

"Mum! Dad!" Lily couldn't help snapping at them; they were both making this much more of a hassle than it needed to be.

"Sorry, Lily," Teresa said more softly. "I feel awful leaving you girls cooped up in Gryffindale through all this, but—oh, maybe we should just come home..."

"No!" Lily said in a hurry. "I mean, er, when are you going to get another chance to see Gilderoy live, Mum?" She forced a laugh. "If you're anything like Petunia with the Marauders, I think you should do it just so we don't all have to put up with you lamenting over it for months afterwards."

"In a strange way, I second that," Bob chimed in.

"Are you sure you girls will be alright?" Teresa asked doubtfully.

"We're getting on just fine!" said Lily. "Really. Petunia hasn't been so bad lately." She turned around to see Petunia's top lip curling up in annoyance, and stuck her tongue out in return just for the fun of it.

"Well, I'll be damned," said Bob. "Gilderoy comes back from the dead to turn my wife into a bumbling idiot and Tuney and Lilybear aren't fighting like cats and dogs. Just when I thought this day couldn't get any weirder..."

Lily giggled at her father's tone. "Why, what else happened?"

"Oh, we got this bizarre call from a couple of blokes offering us a cruise to the Caribbean. Barely had us convinced in the first place—then we asked about the ship they were taking us on, and they told us it was captained by Mr. Hook."

"Wow." Lily turned to Sirius and James and said pointedly, "You'd think those scammers would try a little harder."

For their part, both Marauders looked a little sheepish. Lily simply rolled her eyes and turned around again. "Anyway, I should get going. I think Petunia wants to call Sophie," she rambled, using the name of one of Petunia's many clone-like friends.

"Alright, take care, Lilybear," Bob said.

"Bye, Lily. And really, just let us know if you'd like us to come home early and we'll be there in a flash."

"I will Mum. Love you both."

"Love you too," her parents chorused. There was a fumbling noise, a few beeps, a loud '_Oh, for god's sake, Robert, it's this one_!' and then the line went dead.

Lily let out her breath in a massive sigh of relief. "We're all set," she announced. As she placed the phone back on its cradle, however, a dull, aching feeling that she couldn't really place began to creep under her skin.

"Thank god!" Petunia exclaimed, rather overdramatically.

"Group high five!" Sirius said, leaning on one elbow to reach his hand toward the centre of the table. Everyone followed suit, and five heads turned expectantly toward Lily. "Come on, Lulu, you know you want in on this." Sirius raised his eyebrows with a smirk.

With a look of mild exasperation, she complied, and their six hands met awkwardly in something that couldn't really classify as a high five. As they broke away, the others fell into a happy buzz of chatter and Lily glanced at her barely-touched plate of dinner, realizing that she had no desire whatsoever to finish it. Standing there in silence, she attempted to figure out where this sudden feeling of melancholy had come from. It sat there in her stomach, a hollow twinge that only seemed to be growing in intensity.

"You alright, Firecracker?" James asked, noting her troubled expression.

Lily gripped the back of her chair but didn't sit retake her seat. "Fine," she said, forcing a smile. "Disaster averted, right? They aren't coming back."

But instead of joining in the celebrations, Lily turned and headed quickly toward the staircase, ignoring her sister's uncharacteristically concerned gaze and trying to force back the lump that was rising in her throat. The words echoed in her mind and by the time she'd closed her bedroom door and slumped down on her comforter, she realized what it was that was upsetting her.

_They aren't coming back_.

Up until now it had been her top priority to keep Bob and Teresa from rocking up on the front doorstep tomorrow. Caught up in the chaos of the DeMort scenario, she'd spared no thought for what she was actually doing—along with the others, she'd just trudged blindly forward, doing whatever she could to get her parents out of the picture. But now that their efforts had been successful, it hit her square in the gut just how many times she'd lied to them. Hell, if they knew how she and Petunia were spending their days—not making nice and baking cookies, but running around and plotting with four criminally sought teenage boys—they'd go mental. Bob would likely explode in a fit of rage at the mere suggestion. So why, Lily wondered, did they think it was okay to just cover it up with little white lies?

Sure, the situation with Val and the Marauders was pretty damn serious, and she understood that the fewer people who knew about it, the better. That was exactly the problem—they _couldn't_ know the truth. But at the same time, Lily couldn't help picturing Bob and Teresa up at the cottage, all oblivious and excited about some stupid Gilderoy concert, unaware that they'd just been manipulated by their own daughters. Pawns in a game of chess they didn't even know about. It was horrifying when you really thought about it.

And Lily spent the next hour or so doing just that. Her mood became darker and darker as she mulled over what she had done, and nothing seemed to be able to distract her from her own thoughts. Three different books lay sprawled on her floor where she had thrown them in frustration, and even listening to upbeat music had not lifted her spirits in the slightest. Eventually, she resorted to laying on her bed with her laptop in front of her, aimlessly playing a dumb online game called Gobstones as the sky darkened outside. Elsewhere in the house, she could hear someone, presumably Petunia, running up and down the stairs at frequent intervals. She was puzzled until she realized it was probably just some new exercise fad.

Then, at around seven thirty, there was a knock on the edge of her doorframe and Lily was hugely taken aback when she looked up and saw Peter standing there, rocking back and forth on his feet.

"Er... can I help you?" she asked.

"Would you happen to know where I could find a tambourine?"

Lily squinted at him, and was about to reply when there was a furious hiss of "_She doesn't know, you idiot!" _from the hallway and a bony arm snatched the boy away.

Lily bristled at her sister's comment. Of course she knew. She'd been right about to answer that yes, they had one packed away in a basement cupboard and what the hell did he need it for, but clearly Petunia took her for some kind of dimwit.

Rather than dwelling on this strange incident, Lily stared up the ceiling and lamented how far away from normal her life had strayed. She'd have given almost anything to close her eyes and wake up on the morning of the DeMort broadcast and have all of this be a very long, very elaborate dream.

_Almost_ anything.

At some point, Harry padded silently into the room and leapt up onto Lily's stomach, his favourite napping spot. Lily stroked his back rhythmically as he purred, and she sat like this, comforted by the sense of familiarity he brought with him, until there was another knock on the doorframe—this time louder, sharper, and altogether more irritating.

"What do you want, Petunia?"

Her sister stepped into the room wearing a strange expression and an even stranger outfit. She was decked out from head to toe in Marauders gear, complete with a lime green _Going Stag_ t-shirt that was several sizes too big, a pair of bright blue Marauders sunglasses perched in her hair, at least twenty wristbands, and an impossible number of temporary tattoos—hearts, guitars, and animal footprints to correspond with the Marauders' own marks—stamped fanatically over her arms, legs, and face. She also had two long strips of fabric dangling from one hand. There was something in her face and the way she was moving—shakily, as though she might detonate at any moment—that made Lily very uneasy. Her fears were confirmed a moment later when, rather than replying, Petunia made a beeline for her and immediately shoved one of the bandanas over her eyes.

"What the hell?" Lily made reflexively to swipe it off, but Petunia's grip was firm. With vice-like hands, she tied the thing in a tight knot around her head while Lily wriggled in protest. "What are you_ doing_?"

As she attempted to no avail to remove the blindfold, there was another rustling noise beside her and a sound of more fabric being knotted. Then, she felt someone grab her hand.

"Come on," Petunia said, pulling her off the bed and dragging her forward. There was an awkwardness about the sluggish way in which they were moving together, and Lily felt her shoulder slam into something solid.

"Ow! Jeez, what the hell is going on?"

"For heaven's sake, Lily, just go with it. It's a surprise," was Petunia's exasperated answer.

Lily racked her brain for where exactly her sister might be going with all of this and ultimately came to no conclusive answer. It was so out of the blue, so unlike Petunia, that she found herself stumbling along dumbly behind her in submission.

They left Lily's bedroom at the same stilted pace. Petunia's guidance was jerky at best, and when Lily walked into the wall for the sixth time, her patience finally snapped. "Are you even _trying _to lead—" Her words died when a high-pitched scream blasted into her ear and her entire body was jerked forward by the arm that Petunia was clutching. It all happened way too quickly. Lily felt herself pitch forward, dragged down roughly by Petunia's grip, and fall headfirst into a strange sense of nothingness.

And then she smashed her chin on something and her swear words were lost in a jumble of screams and crashing noises as she and Petunia tumbled down the stairs.

They skidded to a stop on what must have been the landing, with Petunia crunched up against the wall and Lily, behind her, sprawled headforemost across several stairs with one foot caught in the banister. Acutely aware of several bruised joints and flaming patches of rug burn, Lily lifted her head and removed her blindfold. What she saw made her jaw drop.

"Petunia! You blindfolded _yourself?_ What the HELL?" She tore the strip of fabric off of her own head and, with some difficulty, pulled herself to a standing position. Petunia sat on the ground, pouting and nursing a grazed elbow, but did not remove her blindfold. When she spoke, she directed her exasperated words and hand gestures at the coat rack downstairs.

"It has to be a surprise!" she cried. "The Marauders have something planned for us."

Setting her mild intrigue aside, Lily rubbed her chin and tried to understand her sister's logic. There was none. "But _you_ know what it is, don't you?"

"Well, yes," said Petunia. She got a manic sort of look on her face and began to speak more quickly. "Something very, very special and very, very exclusive that they've never, ever done before and it's just for me!—er, us. It's just... more exciting this way." She heaved a great sigh, still not looking at Lily.

"Yes," grunted Lily, and Petunia's head snapped toward her. "Because falling to our doom was _so exciting_. Take that thing off, you idiot." She reached down and tried to pry off the blindfold, but Petunia wasn't having any of it; she twisted out of Lily's grasp and pressed her hands firmly against the fabric, refusing to be unmasked. Finally, after a lengthy bout of grappling, Lily groaned and pulled Petunia up by the wrist. "Where are we going, then?" she asked grudgingly.

"The basement," Petunia replied, and promptly walked into the wall.

Lily put her head in her hands for a moment, shook it, and then grabbed hold of her sister's wrist once more. As she opened the basement door, she couldn't deny that her curiosity was very much piqued. Was this what all the noises had been from earlier, she wondered? Part of her was slightly scared as to what she might discover at the foot of the stairs. With Petunia and the Marauders as the masterminds behind the whole thing... well, her concerns pretty much spoke for themselves.

As they rounded into the area where the Marauders slept, Lily stuttered to a halt. All of the sleeping bags and couches had been shoved aside. The lights were dimmed, but the darkness was punctured by colourful rays emanating from the light machine Petunia had purchased for her "Dynamite Rave" themed birthday party the previous year. A makeshift stage made of several overturned crates and a large sheet of plywood had been set up against the wall, and four figures were perched on it, all wearing cheesy grins.

"Surprise!" The Marauders chorused.

Lily gaped at them for a long moment, unable to form words. James and Sirius were sitting on stools with acoustic guitars resting on their laps. In front of them, clamped to what looked like mops in buckets, were microphones that Lily recognized as being part of Petunia's Marauder Karaoke game. Remus, holding a pair of salad tongs, sat behind a 'drum kit' made up of a jumble of household items; Lily spotted pots and pans, a garbage bin and what looked like the entirety of Teresa's teaspoon collection amidst the rubble. On the far side of the stage, Peter clutched his tambourine excitedly.

"Wasn't Lulu supposed to be wearing the blindfold?" Sirius enquired. Dots of pink and green light danced across his puzzled expression.

Lily, whose gaze was fixed in bewilderment on the conglomeration of junk before her, could do little more than shrug in explanation. Petunia removed the fabric from her eyes, which subsequently lit up like a child's on Christmas morning. She let out an ear-splitting shriek and started to jump up and down in the completely daft way Lily had always feared she would if Lily had ever relented and gone with her to a Marauders concert. And, well, judging by the looks of things, that was exactly what was happening. Only now, Lily felt a curious sort of excitement bubbling up in her own chest—one which she tried very hard to quell.

"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!" Petunia squealed. "A private concert? Oh, you shouldn't have!"

"I'm confused," said James, turning to Lily. "She helped us set the whole thing up."

"But I'm the guest of honour, silly!" said Petunia, breaking into giggles. "It wouldn't be very appropriate if I just walked in and sat down all boringly, would it?"

James smirked. "But you said Lily was the one who needed cheering up."

"Alright, alright," Petunia conceded. "We're _both_ guests of honour. And we get front row seats—yay! Come on, Lily."

Lily was ushered forward into one of two wooden chairs adorned with ribbons and balloons, but she could barely speak for the shock of it all.

"Hold on," she said haltingly, "cheering up? And this... this was your idea, Petunia?"

"Um, duh," said her sister. "I _am_ the genius around here." She looked around happily at the colourful decorations and haphazard set, tactfully avoiding Lily's eye, before emitting a tiny, awkward cough. "And you know, after the thing with Mum and Dad, I had to do something to stop you being a total party pooper."

It was a heavily cloaked display of sincerity, but coming from Petunia it was a bloody miracle. Lily was speechless, completely stumped by this unprecedented event.

"Um, wow," she said, looking determinedly at the mop-bucket microphones. "I, er, thanks. This is... kind of a good idea, I guess."

James took this opportunity to chime in, saving Petunia from having to respond. "And for our part we really just wanted to say thank you somehow, for everything. We honestly really appreciate it and are completely aware that we'd be lying in a ditch somewhere if it weren't for your hospitality."

Remus nodded along and Peter shook his tambourine in agreement. Sirius, meanwhile, stood up and said: "Yes, we'd be completely screwed without you. Enough with this cheese fest—can we play now?"

Petunia let out a slight squeal, like a bottle of excitement popping a leak, and the Marauders seemed to take this as a sign of accord. There was a rhythmic tapping sound as James used his foot to count them in.

The upbeat melody that flooded the room was familiar, and Lily recognized the introductory chords of _Mischief Managed _(was this their only bloody song, she was beginning to wonder?). She was impressed—perhaps even floored—by the way the music sounded. If she had closed her eyes, there was no way she would have believed that what she was hearing was the result of a couple of acoustic guitars, some garbage cans and a tambourine. The boys' musical talent was indisputable. James' prowess on the guitar was nothing short of masterful, and even Sirius, who generally played bass, strummed along with effortless skill.

'_I solemnly swear I am up to no good..."_

Despite the fact that Lily had heard the recorded version of the song hundreds of times, there was something indescribably different about having them sing it right there in person. James' voice, like when she'd heard it through the vent that night, was smooth and raw, and it literally sent shivers down her spine. Even with Petunia singing along obnoxiously in her ear, she couldn't take her eyes off of him; the way his cheeks were flushed under the colourful lights, or the way his calloused fingers moved over the strings in such a practiced way, as though the instrument was a mere extension of himself. Her heart was doing funny things in her chest and she couldn't find it within herself to push the feeling away.

When they came to the chorus, Sirius jumped off of his stool and began moving with the energy of the song. James followed suit, abandoning his microphone (which Lily had come to realize was just for show) and jamming out with his mate across the stage. Remus smiled as he dominated the drum set, hands flying over the assortment of junk and pounding out a complicated beat, and Peter shook his tambourine with everything that he had. Under the flashing lights, and with Petunia on her feet and dancing maniacally beside her, Lily almost felt as though she was sitting in the front row of a packed concert venue (minus the deafening screams, of course). And although the Lily of eight days ago would have murdered her for admitting it... it wasn't half bad.

James pulled out of a deftly executed guitar spin (one that contrasted comically with the woody acoustic sound of the music) and launched into the instrumental bridge, taking complete possession of the stage as he glided expertly over a sequence of complex picking. Lily was mesmerized, barely aware of Petunia practically sobbing with joy beside her. Then James' hazel eyes lifted from the guitar strings and their gazes locked. It was only for a moment, but long enough for something unspoken to pass between them. Lily's face, she knew, betrayed a reluctant admiration, and upon catching her eye, James faltered in his plucking. He turned away quickly, making a smooth recovery in the next few bars but not chancing another look back in her direction. Lily, too, kept her eyes determinedly averted.

Suddenly, she was acutely aware of her awkward posture, the way she was just sitting in her chair like an opera attendee while the Marauders torpedoed around the stage and Petunia jumped and clapped and belted out the lyrics that were practically tattooed on her brain. Torn between maintaining her pride and expressing her appreciation of the music, Lily fidgeted in her seat for the rest of the song, twirling a silver ribbon around her finger and tapping her foot in time with Remus' bin-bashing. By the time the final strains of _Mischief Managed_ reverberated through the walls, however, a smile of genuine enjoyment had crept up on her face and she accompanied Petunia's hysterical whooping with her own moderately enthusiastic applause.

"Hello Shitty Basementland!" Sirius bellowed, raising one arm to point at the ceiling all dramatically. "Are you ready to rock tonight?"

"YEAH! WOOOOO!" Petunia shouted back. Her voice, already strained from squealing and cheering, cracked mid-syllable, and Lily couldn't help but laugh.

"This next one is for all the ladies in the house," said James in a pretentious, smoldering-rockstar voice. He winked in the girls' direction, causing Lily's stomach to flip-flop and Petunia's legs to buckle.

"So basically the same as the last one," Remus laughed.

Apparently the Marauders had no prepared set list and each of them a different idea of what song was geared toward "the ladies in the house," because when James counted them in they broke out in four very different melodies and tempos. Sirius deliberately struck a god-awful chord on his guitar and said "Oi, what the hell?" while Remus kicked over one of his bins and threw his head back, laughing. Peter, meanwhile, took over; he pranced across the stage with his tambourine, singing "_I am a man without a soul, baby! Oh-oh, you are my shining star!"_ in a hilarious falsetto tone, while James' ultra-fast, overenthusiastic strumming spurred him on. Then he stumbled over the fallen bin and the entire room dissolved into hysterics.

As Lily struggled to pull herself together, she couldn't help but be impressed with their recovery—just as she'd seen in James' "fall from the sky" video, they certainly had a knack for making light of their own silly mistakes.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" said James, ruffling his hair as he sat back down. He turned to the others with an exaggerated whisper and said: "Oi gits, we're playing _Deluminate_."

At James' count, they burst into a song that was fast-tempoed and energetic with a catchy melody and a strong beat—one that made Lily's feet itch to move. She flicked her eyes to the side to see that Petunia's dance party of one was rapidly becoming an out-of-control rave, and then bit the inside of her lip, feeling more uncomfortable and self-conscious than ever. When she glanced up and caught Sirius' eye, he gave her a very deliberate, knowing stare. Then, as the lead-in to the chorus played, he paused his strumming for long enough to point forward and flick his hand in a motion that seemed to call her up to the stage.

"Eeeee!" Petunia squealed, misinterpreting his hand signal and leaping onto the plywood. She ignored Sirius, who was giving her a funny look, and gravitated immediately to James' side, where she twirled around and leaned in to sing into his microphone. With their heads at such a close proximity, she looked to be on the verge of passing out. James, meanwhile, seemed a little taken aback, but he took it in stride as he carried on playing. Lily watched irritably for a few seconds and then forced herself to look away.

As she stared stonily at the dartboard on the wall behind Remus and unconsciously folded her arms over her chest, something unbelievable happened.

A scrawny, pale hand shot out in front of her.

She glanced up incredulously to see lights dancing across Petunia's face. It came as such a surprise that she completely froze and Petunia ended up impatiently snatching her wrist and yanking her out of her seat.

As the music continued to pound, Lily stumbled up onto the makeshift stage and was immediately accosted by Sirius, who was dancing like a lunatic and singing to her:

"_Put the lights out, baby. Yeah, Deluminate."_

Because it was Sirius, and his energy was pouring off of him like a contagious substance, Lily felt her defences begin to crack. After some initial hesitation, she let the beat take over her body, and within seconds she was jumping up and down and moving in time to the music. For a few minutes, she allowed herself let go of everything—the guilt, the regret, Val DeMort—and just have _fun_. That word had been such a foreign concept lately, but under the flashing lights, she let the music sweep her away into its long-lost clutches.

She was spinning around when she caught James staring at her across the stage. He matched her gaze for a moment and then looked away, snapping his attention to the way Petunia was shimmying eagerly into his personal space. _Deluminate_ came to a close and she threw her arms around him, squealing, "Brilliant, James, just brilliant!"

Unwilling to let her sister's antics faze her, Lily kept dancing alongside Sirius through the next few songs. The whole bundle-of-hyperactivity thing might have been irritating in the daytime, but on stage it transformed him into something else entirely. During Remus' drum solo in _The Madness Within_, he grabbed her by the hand, led her through several quick twirls and finished with an expert dip, which had Lily laughing heartily. As he brought her back up, he said "You're welcome" in a very low voice and spun her back in the opposite direction. Only this time, much to Lily's horror, he let go of her hand and sent her flying toward James, whose arms shot out just in time to catch her. She stumbled into his chest and looked up, embarrassed.

"Sorry!" she said over the din.

"No problem," said James, one side of his mouth twitching upward. "You okay?"

Lily stepped back and started to nod, but in that moment Petunia grabbed James from behind and turned him around so they were dancing face to face, both of his hands in hers and only his guitar between them.

Lily rolled her eyes and spun to face Sirius, who was grinning wickedly at her. She glared back but could hardly muster the animosity she would usually have thrown his way. So instead of getting angry or defensive, she wrenched the tambourine out of Peter's hands, stalked across the stage, and gave Sirius several good wallops before handing the instrument back to its baffled owner.

Thanks to Petunia's monopoly of James' hands and incidents such as the tambourine swiping, the actual music began to die out in favour of dancing and socializing as the concert progressed. When everyone became so occupied halfway through a song that the only strains of vaguely musical sound were Peter's rhythmic jingling and vocal harmonies, they decided to call it quits. Exhausted, they collapsed onto the carpet while Petunia fiddled around with the CD player and subjected them all to some more Marauder tunes.

"Holy crap, I'd forgotten how much I missed that," Sirius commented as leaned his back against the side of the stage. His ragged hair was mussed up and his face had a light layer of sweat across it.

James, who looked similarly dishevelled, nodded in a agreement. "I know," he said. "Remember last summer? Playing at the O2?"

The boys adopted looks of nostalgia. "Best night of my life," Sirius sighed.

"Careful," Lily warned, remembering the epic tantrum that Petunia had thrown when Bob and Teresa had forbidden her from seeing that very concert. "Petunia's still practically suicidal over missing that one..."

Petunia, however, looked absolutely giddy as she dropped onto the carpet beside James. Her face was a mess of peeling stickers and disintegrating tattoos. "That doesn't matter anymore, Lily," she said happily. "How many girls can say that the Marauders have given them a _private concert_?"

"Well..." Sirius counted off on his fingers, "... three, if you count James' gran."

It was clear that Petunia did not. Her smile grew wider as she let out a breathless sigh.

"So, Lily," James began in a conversational tone, leaning around Sirius to address her. The corner of his mouth was tilted up slightly. "Still think we're egotistical, talentless morons?"

Lily snorted. "Egotistical, yes," she shot back immediately. "Morons, obviously. But talentless..." She pinched her lips, "...I may be reconsidering that one."

Sirius' mouth curled into a smirk. "Knew you'd see the light someday."

"Please, don't flatter yourself." Lily turned a mocking stare on him. "I was referring to Peter's tambourine skills."

"Sure, Lulu, whatever you say..."

There was a small window of silence here, where everyone seemed to regain their breath and allow their energy supplies to begin to replenish. In the background, the CD player was still spewing out Marauder songs at a bordering-on-invasive volume.

_You and me, we're the captains__  
__Hit the bottles, hear them fall__  
__No backing out of this game__  
__Quidditch captains__  
__Quidditch captains_

Lily made a face. "What the hell is a Quidditch captain?" she wondered out loud.

Petunia jumped right in without allowing the boys so much as a millisecond of explanation. "It's a metaphor," she said, clearly intent once again to prove the breadth of her fan knowledge. "The 'game' is in reference to the mysterious game that we call life, while the term 'captain' is used to suggest control over its ups and downs. And when they talk about 'hitting the bottles', it's about the dangers of alcohol and the fact that we should rise above such poisons, 'knocking them down', so to speak." The entire spiel sounded as though it had been memorized word-for-word from a Wikipedia article and the words, rather than giving an impression of intelligence, sounded robotic and awkward coming from Petunia's mouth. Despite this, she continued: "So basically, it's an anthem to living life to its fullest and accomplishing your dreams. I think it's genius."

The boys shared a look, then burst into raucous laughter. Petunia blinked in confusion as Sirius rolled onto his back, kicking wildly at the air.

"Oh, dear lord," said James after recovering some. He looked mildly embarrassed about the whole thing. "Is that what people think? That's, err..."

"The biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard!" Sirius howled. "Twiggie, you crack me up!"

Petunia's lips moved soundlessly. Lily could practically see the cogs turning behind her eyes, trying to fit this latest puzzle piece into her ever-transforming image of the Marauders. While Petunia's cheeks turned progressively redder, Lily couldn't have been happier about the shutdown.

"Well, what is it then?" Lily asked.

James turned hesitantly to his band mates. "I dunno, guys. Do you reckon we should...?"

"Absolutely not!" said Sirius, rolling into an upright position and suddenly living up to his name. "Does the Unbreakable Vow mean nothing to you, Prongs? We agreed—nobody knows but us. 'Sides, I'm sort of liking this... this _life anthem_ thing..." And he fell back once again.

Lily's interest was piqued now, and she wasn't about to let the Marauders just drop the subject after taunting them like this. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, crossing her arms. "I didn't realize we were just _anybody_ to you. I suppose it wouldn't matter then, if all the bacon just magically disappeared off the breakfast table..."

"NO!" cried four horrified boys at once. Lily smirked.

"Devil woman," Sirius muttered darkly.

"They have done an awful lot for us," Remus said thoughtfully to James. A slight twinkle in his eye indicated that he wasn't taking the situation entirely seriously. "And they do know about DeMort."

"DeMort?" Sirius gestured wildly with his hands. "Moony, we both know that this is _much _bigger than DeMort. It's a matter of honour."

"And brotherhood!" Peter tossed in.

Lily rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. With a sigh, she conceded. "Alright, fine."

"Thank you, Lulu."

After a few seconds of silence, however: "...Wow, it's a perfect night for a bacon bonfire, don't you reckon?"

"NO! Alright, alright..." Sirius relented, looking deeply panicked. Whatever they were hiding may have been "bigger than DeMort" but apparently, bacon trumped all. "We'll tell you." He paused and adopted an expression that was very, very solemn. "But this does _not _leave the basement."

"Make them take the Vow," Peter commanded. On either side of him, James and Remus exchanged a fleeting glance of amusement that seemed to contain undertones of mild discomfort.

Sirius, on the other hand, looked strangely relieved. He rose to his feet eagerly and urged Lily and Petunia to do the same. "You must solemnly swear by the Unbreakable Vow," he ordered, "to never divulge anything herein to any persons, living or dead, fictional or otherwise, unless stated within the legal boundaries of this contract."

The Evans sisters exchanged a look. "...That made absolutely no sense," Lily monotoned. "And what's the 'Unbreakable Vow'?"

Sirius ignored her. He extended his arm at a perfectly straight right angle. "Lulu... Whatever-Your-Last-Name-Is, do you hereby swear by these conditions?"

"Yeah, whatever, I swear—_what the_—?" No sooner had their skin connected when her entire arm was commandeered into a string of complicated fist bumps. The handshake went on for a bordering-on-ridiculous length of time and comprised several demented-looking hand claps and stupid sound effects. Finally, Sirius froze in an ET sort of finger touch...

...and spat into her face.

"EUGH!" Feeling sickened as the saliva dribbled down her cheek, Lily wiped frantically at the area with the back of her sleeve. "What is wrong with you?"

"Spit on my face," was Sirius' only reply.

"What? _I am not spitting on your face!_"

"You have to. Come on, spit."

Lily took half a step back. "The hell I will! What even _is_ this?"

The other Marauders shrugged, as if her reluctance surprised them. James just gave her an encouraging nod.

"Don't make this difficult, Lulu," said Sirius. "We're all mature adults here."

Lily rolled her eyes. Figuring she had nothing to lose, she distorted her face, gathered ammo in the back of her throat Titanic-style, and sent a modest spray of spittle flying right at his chin. Sirius didn't even blink.

"Could have committed a little more," he said, one hand swiping casually across the target area, "but I'll take it. Twiggie?"

The five of them turned to Petunia, who—in the time it had taken for Lily's Unbreakable Vow—had gone from standing on Lily's left to huddling in the far corner with her knees to her chest, her eyes wide and unblinking.

"Twiggie?" Sirius repeated, amusement in his voice this time.

Petunia glanced up at him. "What? Uh, no. That's okay."

"What's the matter with her?" James asked.

"Petunia has a _small_ germ problem," said Lily. "In case you hadn't noticed."

"Afraid of a little spit, are you?" Sirius chuckled. "Well, that's too bad—up you get."

With that he crossed to where she was curled up and grabbed her by the arms. Petunia—acutely aware, as only she would be, of the fact that Sirius had just wiped his face with one of those hands—immediately started squealing and thrashing in a desperate attempt to shake him off.

"EEEWWWW NO! YOU TOUCHED HER SPIT THAT'S SO GROSS GET OFF ME YOU FREAK!"

Astounding all but Lily with the strength that such fits had a tendency to breed, Petunia writhed and hip-checked her way out of the corner and dashed to the other side of the room, where she conveniently found the doorway and lunged through it with a nervous yelp.

"_Small_ problem?" Remus queried, eyebrows raised.

"More or less debilitating," Lily amended, folding her arms.

Petunia's footsteps pattered halfway up the stairs before coming abruptly to a halt.

"FINE THEN!" Sirius called out. "GUESS WE'LL JUST TELL LULU AND YOU'LL HAVE TO LIVE YOUR ENTIRE LIFE NOT KNOWING WHAT A QUIDDITCH CAPTAIN IS. SUCKS TO BE YOU."

There was a pause; they heard her slowly retreating down the stairs, and then a blonde head peered around the corner.

"Can James do it instead?" Petunia asked timidly. "The... _spitting_ thing, I mean."

Lily had to choke back a snort. She could read Petunia's twisted logic word for word—_one step closer to a kiss_...

James, meanwhile, shook his head without hesitation. "No can do," he said. "Sirius is the Official Unbreakable Vow Commissioner. It has to be him."

Petunia deflated visibly. This line almost had Lily convinced, but the look of sheer relief on James' face confirmed what she already half-suspected: he'd made it up on the spot.

"Are we doing this or what?" Sirius said impatiently, extending his arm. "Twiggie? Now or never."

Petunia hesitated. Her brow was creased and her lips pursed, her overall stance giving the impression that she was on the verge of imploding.

"I'll make Tomaters for dinner tomorrow," Lily coaxed, eager to get things moving along. Tomaters were a household delicacy, a kind of low fat, lentil- and goat cheese-stuffed tomato named by their biggest fan: three-year-old Petunia. Even at that age, she'd been allergic to carbs.

Petunia rocked forward slightly on her toes, but still hesitated.

"I'll let you win a DDR battle," Sirius offered. "Maybe."

"I'll sign your boob!" Peter blurted. It sounded like something he'd been holding in for a while, and as soon as he said it, he turned around and placed a hand on the back of his neck and was silent.

"Er, right," said James after a brief silence. He looked at Petunia earnestly. "Honestly, Petunia, it's not even that bad. Just keep your eyes and mouth closed and you'll be fine."

That, of course, was what did it.

Petunia shivered. "... Okay," she finally said in a microscopic voice.

"Great. Into position, Twiggie," Sirius said, immediately yanking her over so that they were face to face.

Petunia squeaked and flinched her way through the handshake, and as she began to anticipate the grand finale, she became a jittery ball of anxiety. Sirius took note of this, and it was with a nasty smile that he paused at the end of the sequence, drawing out this torturous moment and twitching forward several times as though to launch his saliva into her face. With each false alarm, Petunia's body spasmed intensely and she yelped like a strangled cat. She looked absolutely terrified. Sirius looked completely delighted.

"Oh, for God's sake," Lily surprised herself by bursting out. The real fear and horror that was written all over her sister's face was proving to be too much to watch. "Just put her out of her misery, you prat."

And he did.

The moment the glob of spit hit her nose, Petunia howled like a wounded animal and went rigid. Then, as quiet whimpers began to escape from her throat, her legs buckled and she collapsed to the floor in a pile of trauma. The others looked on as she sobbed into the carpet, unsure exactly how to react, until finally the Puddle-of-Petunia dragged herself laboriously out the door and up the stairs. She was gone for a good forty minutes, during which time the others sat slumped on the floor, twiddling their thumbs and plucking at various instruments. Lily was quite certain she heard the shower running.

Just as James remarked "My god, is she giving herself a facelift up there?" Petunia re-entered the room, freshly dressed, reeking of facial scrub and hand sanitizer. Apparently, she had deemed her body adequately disinfected to carry on existing.

"Alright," she said, chipper and collected, as though she had not been rolling around on the floor in hysterics barely an hour ago. "You can tell us now."

"And this had better be good," Lily growled. The prolongation of this moment was making her very grumpy.

"Oh, it is," Sirius assured her. He adopted a hushed sort of tone. "What we're about to tell you is very, very secret. No one in the _entire world_ knows about Quidditch, except for us four."

"Yeah, yeah, _top-secret_, _classified_, _earth-shattering_, whatever..." was Lily's cranky response. "Can we just get on with it already? This is getting ridiculous."

"Quidditch," Sirius reiterated, looking annoyed at the interruption but otherwise ignoring it, "is the most bloody awesome drinking game to grace the planet. Invented entirely by the four most brilliant human beings alive."

A heavy beat of silence.

"_That's it_?" Lily widened her eyes to illustrate her utter rage. "A bloody _drinking game_? I should've known it would be something so pathetic..."

Petunia appeared to be similarly put-out. "I let you spit in my face," she said, looking horrified.

"Sad, sad, nonbelievers," Sirius sighed. "Wait until you've tried it, _then _tell us it's pathetic. Trust me," he smirked, "you won't."

Lily, who did not believe this for a second, crossed her arms. "Well?" she challenged. "How do you play?"

* * *

**A/N:** And here we see in its natural habitat The Chapter that WOULD NOT END (and Still Hasn't). We were advised by a reader on our Formspring that it would keep you lot happier if we just uploaded everything we had so far, so that you wouldn't have to wait another century while we got our act together. Hopefully you all feel the same way, but if not, we apologize for totally maiming this overgrown hunk of junk. We do have a few more pages written, but it just made sense to split it up at this point. So we did. Please don't hate us. (Can't imagine who wouldn't after putting up with our antics for... um, however long this story has been going on. We don't want to check—it's too depressing.)

On a semi-related note, part of our distraction comes from being way too excited about LEAKYCON, which is happening in August! Does anybody else happen to be going? If you are, let us know in a review! If you aren't, let us know in a review! If you like bananas, let us know in a review! :)

Sinseerlie,

Liz and Sam

(_Seven Scribbles_)


	9. Twinkle, Twinkle: Part Two

**Disclaimer: **Aside from the usual "we don't own this" spiel and accompanying lame jokes, we feel the need to warn you that this chapter features heavy alcohol consumption. Also, Quidditch (at least our version of it) should not be attempted in the home unless you wish to die a most painful death. Final and most important warning: DRUNK PETER BEYOND THIS POINT. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

**Claimer (?):** WHAT? We actually own something this time? Yes, believe it or not, the song "What You Don't Know" (not to be confused with "What Makes You Beautiful") was written for the purposes of the story and not stolen from an existing boy band. (As much as we're trying to get One Direction to put it in their next album.)

* * *

**Chapter Eight, Part Two**

Twinkle, Twinkle

* * *

"Okay." The excitement in Sirius' voice, coupled with the bottle of tequila in his hand and the vast array of oddities the Marauders had arranged throughout the living room, did nothing to appease the anxiety rising in Lily's stomach. "So first things first—we have to make teams."

Peter twitched. "_DibsonPadfootandProngs!"_

"It's teams of two, you dolt," Remus muttered.

Lily took another step into the sitting room. The boys had created an obstacle course of sorts that sprawled through the doorway, down the hall, and into the kitchen. Couches had been shifted, tables rotated, and chairs scattered this way and that across the precarious path.

"We only have two brooms," Petunia announced sadly as she entered the room, apparently back from whatever mission she had been sent on. "Is a mop okay?" She set her armload down so that everything leaned against the wall, and Lily examined the findings: an old, spindly broomstick that had once been part of a Halloween costume, a newer, synthetic-looking one that they actually used to clean the house, and finally, one of the mops that had been a microphone stand just minutes ago. The mop promptly flopped over and smacked the ground with a plastic-y thud.

Sirius sighed, as though this were a very grave sacrifice. "I guess it'll have to do."

"Right, so, teams," James said. "Let's draw numbers. Do you have any paper around? And a pen?"

"No," Lily told him bluntly. "We live in a home completely devoid of writing equipment."

While James shot her a mocking look of exasperation, Petunia sniffed. "Don't listen to her," she said shortly. She proceeded to pull open the drawer of one of the end tables (which was currently floating uncomfortably in the middle of the room) and remove a little pink notepad and a fluffy-tipped pencil from its depths. As she traced out the numbers in her neat, stiff handwriting, Lily looked around.

"We're going to need a hat or something," she said.

At once, Peter's face lit up. He stuck a finger into the air in a comical, almost cartoonish gesture, and then shot off toward the basement.

"Oh god..." Lily said dully.

Sure enough, he emerged moments later with the Tuesday Hat held reverently in his hands. The boy proceeded to execute a stupid, overly complicated twirling movement with the hat, finally flipping it upside down and holding it out to Petunia with a wink.

Petunia wrinkled her nose. Then, she dumped her folded squares of paper into the lime-green basin. Peter shook the hat from side to side, rustling them around a bit.

"Ladies first," he said, thrusting the entire operation into Lily's face.

She obeyed, more out of disinterest than anything, and grabbed the first bit of paper that her fingers touched. The folds opened out to reveal a tidy-looking "**1"**.

"Me next," Sirius insisted, reaching greedily for the slips of paper. "... Huh, three," he said, crumpling his number up after glancing at it. "Damn it, I was hoping I'd be with you, Lulu."

Lily was vaguely surprised at this. "Why?"

"We kicked butt at soccer, remember?"

"Actually, _Lily_ kicked butt," James reminded him.

"Yeah, and you _literally _kicked her butt, Woman Assaulter."

Neck reddening, James made a choked sound in the back of his throat. "I did not _literally _kick her _butt_, Sirius. That's just... wrong."

"Sirius, you failed at soccer. James, you hit a woman. Accept it," Remus advised, leaning forward as Peter offered the Tuesday Hat. He fished for a piece of paper and pulled it open, revealing a two.

Petunia looked absolutely dismayed as she struggled to come to terms with the fact that she and James were now destined for different teams. When it was her turn, she scrunched her eyes shut and began muttering something under her breath. It sounded suspiciously like "_Not three, not three, not three_..." She opened her eyes, and her face crumpled as she let out a hiss.

"Damn it," grumbled Sirius when it became apparent that she had, in fact, drawn a three.

"Guess that leaves you and me then," Remus said to Peter. "Sorry I won't be much help on the drinking front."

"S'alright," Peter said with a shrug. "I've got a high tolerance."

"Pete, last time we went to karaoke night at Jackie's you were reciting Shakespeare on the counter after three beers," Sirius reminded him. "You guys are _so _going down."

"I stand by that I was fully in control of my mental faculties."

"You kept saying 'Asparagus' instead of 'Andronicus'."

"It was an artistic decision!"

"You were rolling around on the floor."

"_Method acting_, James."

"Anyway," Remus interrupted. He spun to face the girls. "The aim of the game is to knock down the bottles at the end of the obstacle course. Basically, one person on your team—the Chaser, we call them— takes the broom and uses it to push the ball along the floor. You have to follow the course properly, and at the end you take a shot at the bottles. However many are still standing is the number of drinks your teammate has to take."

"Alright, sounds simple enough," said Lily.

"Except there's more," Sirius informed her. "Beaters. Someone from each of the other teams has to run alongside and throw pillows, or anything really, at the Chaser. If they hit you three times before you get to the bottles, you forfeit the run and have to take all the shots."

"And don't forget the Keeper," Peter reminded him.

Petunia frowned. "Keeper?"

"Person who has to set the bottles back up again," Sirius explained. "And then there's the Seeker. If the ball gets lost or goes too far away, the Seeker has find it and bring it back. Seeker comes from one defending team, Keeper comes from the other."

"This sounds ridiculously elaborate for a game that's meant to be played while intoxicated," Lily said.

"Ah, but that's what makes it so much fun," Sirius replied, grinning.

"'Course, it doesn't help that most of it was _invented_ while intoxicated," Remus put in.

"Nonsense," said James. "We all know booze brings out the best in us. _Mischief Managed_, anyone?"

Petunia gasped with such force that she physically stumbled backwards; Lily could not help but laugh at the revelation.

The teams all gathered around the starting point, a shallow rectangle of empty space by Bob's office door. The rest of the room was filled with skewed sofas, overturned armchairs, and various tables that had been dragged out into the middle of the carpet. At the opposite end of the room, the doorway was partially blocked by a row of flowerpots. Lily had her doubts about all this, as it was unlikely that Teresa would approve of her furniture being put to such use. But, as she continually had to remind herself, that didn't really matter with her parents out of the picture. For now—as was often the case—Lily's curiosity got the better of her.

"Alright," said Sirius, "first things first."

Lily presumed he would say something about rolling a die for starting positions, but, being Sirius, he had slightly different priorities. He brandished the bottle of tequila that Lily had reluctantly borrowed from her parents' liquor cabinet and said, "We'll be needing shot glasses—at least twelve of them. And some kind of soft drink mixer for all you wimps."

"Oh, please," said James. "Even you couldn't drink straight shots at the rate Quidditch demands it."

Sirius denied this, but the Marauders agreed they would water down all the shots with Cola "to even the playing field." Lily could hardly get her two cents in before the boys wrapped up their rowdy discussion.

"Um, sorry to spoil your fun," she broke in finally, "but you're not going to find any fizzy drinks around here. Mum's a health nut, remember?" As an afterthought: "And who owns _twelve_shot glasses?"

"Are you kidding? James and I've got about seventy between us."

Petunia snorted. "Well, not all of us are alcoholics," she said coolly. Lily, noting the negative implication toward James, wondered if her sister fully realized what she was saying.

"Well, how many _do _you have, then?" Sirius wanted to know.

Sighing, Lily led him to the china cabinet and pulled out every shot glass she could find. There were four in total; one from a childhood trip to Disneyland, one she vaguely recalled coming out of a stocking stuffer, and two that Bob had gotten for free in a promotion at the beer store some years ago. None of them were in particularly great shape, and Sirius lamented this as Lily handed him the jug of orange juice that was going to have to suffice as a mixer.

"Wow," he said sarcastically, "A mop, some orange juice and a Donald Duck shot glass. Let's not get _too _crazy, you guys."

"I'm sorry we're not perfectly prepared for some demented drinking game that you lot _invented_."

"Mate, they've got the booze," James pointed out as they all reconvened in the sitting room. "That's pretty much all that actually matters, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose..." Sirius grumbled. Seconds later, his face suddenly shifted, and he yelled: "Bags the kitchen broom!"

"What?" James replied. "That's not—"

"Bags the mop!" Peter cut him off frantically.

James hissed. "Damn it."

That left him and Lily with the tiny, scraggly Halloween broom, she realized a moment later.

"Wormtail, why would you bags the _mop_?" Remus lamented. "The strings are all going to get in the way, not to mention it's the heaviest..."

"Well I figured it'd be better than that old thing." Peter eyed what was now James and Lily's possession. 'Sides, I didn't hear _you _bagsing anything."

"Alright, alright, settle down, children," Sirius placated with a gleeful expression. Apparently, he was getting his spirit back. "First one to that wall gets to go first!" And he bolted instantly, gaining an easy lead over James and Remus, whose takeoffs were slightly delayed for obvious reasons.

"Shit!" said James, slapping the wall with one hand as he arrived too late.

"You're going doooown, Prongsie," said Sirius triumphantly.

"Yeah, well, play moves to the drunkest," James announced, darting forward and snatching the tequila bottle right out of Sirius' hand. He opened it with little difficulty, took a moderate swig, winced, and smirked at his band mate's dumbstruck expression. "There you go, Firecracker—can't say I'm not pulling my weight here," James said, wiping off his lips with the same arm that held the bottle. "Sorry, Moony. Wormtail."

"Whatever," said Peter, trying to sound menacing. "You're all screwed anyway. First is the worst, second is the—oh, wait..."

He was largely ignored. Sirius was dribbling the ball—one of Harry's jingling cat toys—back and forth with his broom as a sort of warm up. He did this with a worryingly impressive amount of skill.

"I'll go first, Twiggie," he told Petunia. "Watch and learn."

"Right," put in James, "I'll go Beater this round. Firecracker, that means you're either Keeper or Seeker."

"Er, whichever."

In the end, she was assigned the position of Seeker, while Peter went Keeper and Remus joined James on the sidelines, armed with a couch cushion.

"Take your mark," said James. At the starting line, Sirius bent his knees and sprung up and down a little in anticipation. "Get set... _Go_!"

He was off like a rocket, guiding the ball through the obstacle course with ease. Remus' pillow missed by a hair, and Sirius dodged James' projectile by smacking it away with the end of his broom. It was a very strong start.

He had almost cleared the sitting room when disaster struck.

Harry, drawn by the familiar jingling sound of his favourite toy, leaped into Sirius' path and wrestled the ball away with his paws, chasing it into a corner and batting it around.

"_What_?" The dark-haired Marauder burst out in aggravation, freezing with his broom still poised against the floor. "That's bollocks! Redo."

His bandmates exchanged a look. "You know the rules, mate. One go per person, whatever happens."

Sirius scowled. "I hate that rule."

"You _wrote _that rule," Remus pointed out.

"Well, I'm unwriting it, then."

"Don't be stupid," said James cheerfully. "Now drink up, failure."

The scowling Marauder had to take six shots of tequila-and-orange-juice—one for every bottle left standing at the end of the course. He did so grudgingly, as Petunia watched in silence.

"Don't think she learned much that time round," James said quietly to Lily, leaning slightly toward her ear. Seeing her sister's sour-grapes expression, Lily had to stifle a giggle.

"Right—Longs, you're up," said Sirius, slamming down his final shot glass. "I gave you an easy benchmark, so no excuses."

"Yeah, that was your plan all along," James quipped, then turned back to Lily. "You want to have a go?"

"That's alright," Lily said, unsure if she should venture into the fray just yet.

"No, you go," James insisted. "I reckon you'll be fine. 'Sides," he added, half talking to Sirius now, "if you fail, it's not like you've got anything to beat."

"Ha-ha. I'm just splitting my sides over here," Sirius grumbled.

Lily exhaled a little nervously. "Alright, give me that horrid thing."

James put the ratty old costume broom in her hands and Lily took her place at the starting line. She eyed the obstacles with unease, mentally planning her course of action while Peter and Petunia armed themselves with cushions.

"Ready?" called Sirius, who was acting as Keeper. Lily called back her assent, and he shouted "Go!"

Lily sprang into motion. Manoeuvring the ball was even more difficult than she'd predicted, but she was very fortunate—for the first part of the course—in that the Beaters didn't launch any attacks. Peter adopted an ominous smirk and held his cushion tightly to his chest, clearly planning some kind of devious sneak attack. Petunia, meanwhile, was a little out of her element when armed with a modestly heavy projectile.

After a few mishaps, Lily steered the ball toward the doorway. It was at that moment, as she was deciding which gap between the flowerpots she should aim for, that both Beaters chose to launch their cushions. Lily caught the movement in her peripheral vision and reacted reflexively and instantaneously; she dropped to the ground, flattening herself and her broom against the carpet. She felt a rush of air as the cushions flew over her head, zipping right by one another. She heard an "oof" from her right and a squeal from her left, and the next thing she knew, her path was clear.

"Hand ball!" called Peter fanatically, pointing at where Lily's hands were pressed to the ground. The ball, however, was at least three inches away. "HAND BALL!"

"Nope, she's clear!" Remus corrected.

"Go, go, go!" James urged.

But Lily was already up and running. She swept the ball through the middlemost gap and took a sharp right, preparing for the hallway's challenges. For some reason the Beaters did not pursue her for the first two thirds of it. They finally burst through the doorway when she was dodging an overturned bar stool, but she was too quick for them; she sent the ball flying with a swift flick of the broom, missing the exit by a small margin but hastily correcting her error as she ducked into the next room.

Her heart was racing as she picked her way through the kitchen minefield. It was slow going and the broom's flimsy twigs were falling out little by little, so she wasn't getting much mileage out of her strokes at this point. Just as her Beaters looked about to pounce, Lily approached the strip of duct tape they'd put down on the linoleum to mark the crease. Harry sat on the kitchen counter, perfectly serene and disinterested. She put her success thus far down to dumb luck (and having the cat on her side, perhaps) but now she needed all the solid aim she could possibly muster. Trying not to waste any time, she calculated momentarily, pulled back her broom, and went for it.

The ball struck down two bottles on the right, one of which, in turn, knocked over a third. Three bottles.

"God damn it," said Sirius, who'd been waiting at the end of the course. "Where the hell were your Beaters?"

James came through the door then, interrupting them. "Nice one, Lily! Pretty solid for a first-timer. Pretty solid in any case, actually..."

"That wasn't fair," an unmistakable, whiny voice chimed in.

"Oh, it was perfectly fair," said James. "That's what happens when the Beaters take out each other rather than the players." The condescension in his voice stunned Petunia into silence.

Suddenly, the scene in the sitting room made sense. Lily couldn't help but break out into a grin.

"Idiotic as this game is," she admitted, "I'd be lying if I said that didn't get my blood pumping."

"Terrific," said James, returning the smile.

"Well, you still have to drink," Sirius said gruffly. "Prongs, pour the shots."

Lily downed them in quick succession, and then surprised herself by accepting James' request for a high five.

"We've got this thing in the bag," he said in a low voice. "C'mon, you're a beater this round. Just aim for the feet—gets Moony every time."

It did indeed get Remus. Thanks to Lily's well-placed throw, the sandy-haired Marauder ended up forfeiting his run.

"Yes!" James enthused, punching a fist into the air reflexively. "Lily, you're a bloody natural." He smiled at her, and she returned the gesture, though hers was a bit more smug than friendly. Loathe as she was to admit it, she and James made a pretty damn good team.

"Sorry Pete," said Remus as he retook his spot by the starting line.

Peter eyed the six shots lined up in front of him—two of them in glass tumblers. "No worries, Moony. I've got this."

"Okay Twiggie," Sirius was saying as Peter forced down his drinks on Remus' account. "You're up. Just keep your eye on the prize and don't get distracted. They try to hit you, you duck and roll. Or you can do the play we discussed..."

Petunia, however, did not seem to be listening. She was regarding James and Lily out of the corner of her eye with a very sour expression.

"...and if worst comes to worst, there's nothing wrong with stuffing up your first go and getting some booze into your system. Loosens you up for the rest of the—"

Petunia froze. "I won't be drinking."

Sirius stopped talking and they stared at each other for a moment in something like a stalemate. "...Uh, yes you will."

"Uh, _no_," Petunia countered. "I will _not._ I've no need for the empty calories, thanks. I've got my Vitamin Water—I'm set."

Sirius stopped gaping at her and instead gaped at James. "Is she being serious right now?" At his mate's noncommittal shrug, he turned back to Petunia. "Twiggie, it's a drinking game. You have to drink."

"Remus isn't drinking," Petunia pointed out.

"Remus is... a special case. He's allergic to alcohol."

"Well _I'm _a special case, too. And I won't let you peer pressure me, thank you very much."

"Yeah, 'special case' is right," Sirius muttered, his tone acidic. He slumped forward. "Great. Just great. This is the most downright _pathetic_ game of Quidditch I've ever played."

"Whoa there, mate," said Remus, "I reckon you're just upset 'cause you're losing."

Sirius made a face and folded his arms. "Whatever. Do what you like," he said to Petunia. "Least you're not much of a target."

Had Petunia moved any faster, Sirius would have been right—her twig-like stature would have been a distinct advantage. However, upon takeoff, she was immediately and acutely aware of the lurking beaters on either side of her. She flinched at the smallest movements and seemed to forget the ball and broom entirely. Lily and Remus humoured her for the first little while, until Lily got impatient and effortlessly knocked over her sister's crouched, stationary form.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen," announced Sirius bitterly, "is precisely how you _don't_ play Quidditch. Good going, Twigs."

Petunia ignored him and primly swallowed her Vitamin Water shots.

"You know," Peter pointed out loudly; it seemed his six drinks were beginning to kick in. "I don't really reckon that's fair. She's not going to get drunk off that stuff... Better hand-eye coordination and all that."

Sirius spun around, and his face was a deep glower. "Wormtail," he deadpanned. "Did you _see _that run? The rest of you lot could be completely out of your minds and dying from alcohol poisoning and you'd _still _be kicking our arses."

Peter seemed to accept this, but still protested: "Well _I _have to drink all of Remus' shots."

Sirius let out a loud scoff. "I am not taking the fall because _Twiggie_," he glared at Petunia, "is an uptight priss."

"Oh, that's rich. Remus—"

"_Remus_ has a medical reason!"

"Maybe I do too!"

In a heavy, mocking tone: "I'll need a note from your doctor."

Petunia inhaled sharply. "You're an arsehole, Sirius Black."

"Well, at least I'm not a complete _prude._"

"Git."

"Twat."

"_Git_."

"_Twat!_"

"Shut up, would you?" James burst out. "Sirius, if she doesn't want to drink, whatever. We can't force her."

Petunia shot him an overly grateful look at this, which positively screamed something cheesy like '_My hero!'._

Looking vaguely uncomfortable, James continued: "And besides, everyone knows that the more you drink, the more legendary your Quidditch skills become. So basically," He spun to face Peter now, "They're at a disadvantage, yeah?"

Peter knew better than to argue.

However, as play moved on and James lined up at the beginning of the course, something shifted on Sirius' face. He stared for a second or two at the bottle of Vitamin Water that was sparkling pathetically on the table. And then, with stealthy movements and a few sidelong glances, his hand slid toward the tequila.

"Damn it!" yelled Peter. He had just tripped over a chair and now lay spread-eagled on the floor as the ball rolled away, jingling merrily. "I _swear _that wasn't there before..."

"Drink 'em up," Sirius exclaimed gleefully. He shoved a shot glass into his mate's face before he'd even had a chance to right himself. Grumbling, Peter pulled himself up and accepted it.

They had been playing for a solid half hour, and so far Lily and James were leading by a considerable—or, in Sirius' words, 'bloody depressing'—margin. Their broom had fallen apart in the first couple of turns, leading James to decree that it was only fair if they shared the prized plastic one—and now, they were knocking down bottle after bottle. Even so, they'd both taken their share of shots, as it seemed the game was designed to maximize alcohol consumption. Lily felt her skin becoming warmer and her tongue becoming looser in a sensation that was not altogether unfamiliar, but not exactly commonplace either. She found herself high-fiving James with sincere enthusiasm and even cheering him on through his runs. They worked pretty well as a team, she was willing to concede, and Quidditch was possibly the most entertaining party game she'd ever been introduced to.

As Peter swallowed his sixth shot, he made a face. "Ah, that's just godawful. I reckon with the amount I'm drinking I should be allowed a chaser."

James scoffed. "Don't be stupid, Pete. We all know there's no chasers in Quidditch."

Sirius took his turn next, weaving through the course with aggressive determination. It had become much more difficult as the game progressed, with the Marauders constantly rearranging and adding obstacles because it was "part of the rules." Sirius had just broken out into the hallway when both beaters hit him from behind and he slammed into the wall.

"Fuck this," he growled, turning around and heading straight for the drink table. Rather than taking his allotted shots, he swallowed several mouthfuls straight from the bottle. He'd had a few excellent runs early on in the game, but by now the frustration of working with Petunia was getting the best of him.

Lily was up next. She breathed in deeply and felt the blood coursing through her veins as James fired her up from the sidelines. Then she was off, dodging beatings from Remus and Sirius, frantically manoeuvring the ball through a sea of furniture. She made it through the hall and into the kitchen, then took a massive swing and sent the ball rapidly jingling toward the bottles. All six of them toppled over.

"What? NO!" yelled Sirius, throwing down his cushion. At the same time, James ran in shouting "Yeah, Lily!" and grinning like a maniac. She prepared herself for another high five, but instead he lifted her up and spun her around in a circle. She barely noticed it happen as she was back on the ground in an instant, but that didn't stop her heart doing a weird little flip. Especially when James' gaze lingered on her for a few seconds afterward. The warmth in her veins spread to her cheeks, and she hurriedly turned her attention to Remus, who was jotting something down on their scorekeeping whiteboard. It was a mess of lines and symbols and numbers that made absolutely no sense whatsoever to anybody but the Marauders (Lily had given up trying to understand it when the Roman numerals had appeared). She did notice, however, that her and James' section was far more elaborate than the other two, featuring several star-shaped marks and exclamation marks amidst the scrambled calculations.

"That's it," Sirius announced when play moved around once again to him and Petunia. There was a slightly mad glint in his eyes. "Twiggie, we're going for the Snitch."

Peter gasped dramatically. Petunia raised an eyebrow in cynical disinterest.

"The what?" Lily wanted to know.

"The Golden Snitch," Remus elaborated. "It's the only move that has the power to end the game once and for all. Rakes in anywhere from a hundred to three hundred points, depending on the variation."

Lily quirked an eyebrow.

"It's fine, you'll catch on," said James.

"Anyway," Remus carried on, "basic concept of the Snitch is that both players take the course at the same time, and neither one can touch the ground. So you do whatever you can—hop from one obstacle to the next, usually... climb the walls sometimes. Anything goes. Only one broom and one ball, but you're both open targets for the beaters. Oh, and you have to knock down _all _the bottles or you'll score a zero."

Was this even possible, Lily wondered?

"I should mention," Remus went on, "you don't want to actually _go_ for the Snitch unless you're ahead, or you reckon you can make up the difference in points. Points are awarded based on difficulty—the Norwegian Ridgeback, for instance, gets you an additional score of twelve. That's when one player piggybacks the other all the way. There's about thirty ways we've come up with, but we'll get into those if they come up. Speaking of—which will you be going for, Padfoot?"

Sirius looked positively dangerous. "New York Evolved."

All three Marauders winced and directed piteous glances at Petunia. James leaned in and whispered to Lily, "Sirius' invention from our second American tour. Pete broke his foot during its inception."

"You're kidding, right?" asked Lily, though she knew he was not, as they watched the tense pair line up for their run. She noticed with a smidge of uncertainty that Petunia looked a little glassy-eyed and kept staggering sideways into the TV stand.

Remus interrupted. "Padfoot, mate," he said, "as scorekeeper for this round, I respectfully encourage you to reconsider your decision."

"Request declined," grunted Sirius without even looking at him.

Remus sighed. "Alright. New York Evolved it is—base score of two hundred and seven. Beaters up."

"You got this," said James, squeezing Lily's shoulder encouragingly as she picked up her missile. Lily nodded and glanced at the scoreboard; if she read correctly, she and James were a hundred and ten points ahead of Remus and Peter, who in turn had a seventy point lead on Sirius and Petunia. If the latter made this shot, they would finish the game victorious. It made absolutely no sense, but Lily didn't think it worth protesting. She just adjusted her grip on the cushion and waited, poised at the sideline.

"Whenever you're ready," said Remus.

"Wait!" Petunia said. Her eyes were squinted slightly. "Just—Can you explain it to me one more time...?"

There really _was _something off about Petunia, Lily decided, as Sirius launched into a hasty, irritated recap of the rules that only seemed to confuse he sister even more.

"No more stalling!" Peter yelled from the sidelines. "Time's-a-ticking, dunderheads!"

Remus and Lily exchanged amused glances from overtop of their cushions.

"Wormtail, I feel like you may be a _little _drunk," James put in.

"I'se not," he protested.

"You are," Sirius informed him as he stalked over to the starting line, dragging Petunia by the hand. "Okay Twigs, onto my back."

"I don't know about this..."

"_Please, _Twiggie. Just shut up and get on."

"But I'm _heavy_. I have like five pounds of Vitamin Water in me."

Sirius' shook his head in complete disbelief. "Yes, you're bloody Godzilla. _Honestly.._."

Despite her pathetic protests, Petunia eventually relented and hoisted herself onto his back, securing her legs around his middle.

Lily watched all of this with her mind partially distracted by strategies and game plans. Her fingers curled around the edges of her pillow as she considered tactics that might be useful. She could not, under any circumstances, let her sister win this game.

And so, when Sirius took off, leaping onto the sofa with Petunia clinging on for dear life, she immediately sprung into action. Sirius had one major advantage here, and that was Petunia's feather-light build. He successfully scaled the couch and then leapt onto the nearby coffee table, wincing as his passenger shrieked in his ear. His face was set in determination, though, and Lily recognized the animalistic competitiveness that often accompanied DDR rematches. Lily and Remus as Beaters were no match for psycho-Sirius. He barrelled through the course like the Hulk, hopping from one furnishing to the next and expertly avoiding the Beaters' projectiles as he whacked the ball forward with the handle of the broom. Lily tossed her cushion over and over again, waiting the required three seconds every time she missed and then hurrying back into action. But try as she might to take down the Siritunia beast, she simply couldn't hit them. It didn't help that the alcohol was dulling down her expert aim, nor that she was becoming more and more frustrated with every failed attack.

Before long, Sirius made it to the kitchen. Lily tore up the hallway and went it one final time, but Sirius ducked down and let it soar over Petunia's head. Remus made a clever shot at them while they were down—Lily thought for sure they were finished—but Sirius shot up like a jack-in-the-box to jump over it. And then he reached the duct tape line. He picked up the ball in one hand, passed it to his bewildered teammate, barked "Arms forward, Twiggie!" and threw Petunia over his head.

Lily wasn't sure whether to believe her eyes at first, but there was no denying it once she heard Petunia's ear-splitting screech. She watched as her sister went flailing through the air, soaring toward the bottles. Sirius had perhaps overshot a little; instead of colliding with the bottles, Petunia went zipping right over top of them and crashed into the wall instead. One of the bottles wobbled a little from the vibration, but settled itself nicely back into place. Sirius roared, stomping his feet on the linoleum. Petunia slowly sat up and began to hyperventilate.

"Bloody hell," Lily breathed.

"And _that _is New York Evolved," Remus said mildly. "Course, it wasn't exactly properly executed, but still—you get the idea."

Lily made a noise in the back of her throat. "You lot are actually insane," she said. "Bonkers. Completely mental."

"You _threw _me into the _wall_!" Petunia cried.

Sirius was livid. "Well, maybe if you were the weight of a normal human being, rather than a bloody SPECK OF DUST, you might actually have knocked the bottles over like you were meant to!"

"You _threw me into the wall._"

"I repeat, if—"

"Oh god, give it a rest, would you?" James cut in wearily.

"Anyway, i'ss time to drink, losers!" Peter announced. He poured the shots excitedly, missing one of the glasses and sending a bit of tequila dribbling down onto the carpet.

"I hate this game," Sirius grumbled as he and Petunia forced down the product of their failure.

James shook his head solemnly. "Mate, that's basically the equivalent of hating your own child. I'm so ashamed of you right now."

The next few rotations saw James and Lily rake in even more points while the others performed dismally. Petunia's turns were practically forfeited; she was either staging a silent protest or becoming too incoherent to know what she was doing—it was hard to tell. Sirius was equally silent, having settled into a morose kind of resignation. Remus was still putting out a solid effort, but Peter compensated for this by being so terrifically sloshed that he could hardly tell the ball from his own foot.

"I don't get it," said Lily, when she was beginning to feel as if she could say anything. "How is Peter such a lightweight when he's... well, not exactly _lightweight_?" She paused. "Err, no offense, Peter."

"Nuh' takened, m'ladeh."

"Trust me," James laughed, "I've known Pete almost twelve years and I'm still trying to work that one out."

"Ahhh, you winks—errrrr, wimpfs—wan know th'secret uh how I handle m'drink?" He raised his shotglass toward them, staring off toward the window, and swallowed dazedly. "I'se the beast, tha'ss how." And then he doubled over laughing.

As much as the others sucked, there was also the surprising yet undeniably fact that Lily and James worked flawlessly as a team. When they weren't standing by and boosting each other's spirits, they were discussing strategies while the other teams drank their penalty shots. Even though they too had drunk more than enough to feel a little cloudy, they were able to stay level-headed enough to make some pretty impressive shots. Lily was almost grateful for the buzz; not only did it give her an extra dose of confidence, but she was sure she wouldn't have been so open to James' camaraderie if not for the social buffer it provided.

The game wore on. Remus scored a strike, possibly because of the beaters' concerns that Peter was on the verge of alcohol poisoning. Petunia made it halfway through her turn before disappearing out the back door, forcing the others to go and fetch her (though she would respond to no one but James). Sirius had taken to drinking straight from the bottle every time now and was making a right mess of all his turns. When he finished off the last of it, Lily begrudgingly fetched another.

As Sirius cracked open the new bottle, James sidled over to his teammate. "Lily," he whispered, "I reckon it's time."

"Time for what?"

"The _Snitch_."

"Ah. Brilliant. Alright. What's the plan?"

They conferred quietly while the Seeker retrieved the ball, which had gotten lodged in a light fixture during Sirius' self-sabotaging play. When they had everything sorted, they nodded in synchronization and stepped up to the starting line.

"We will be attempting the Golden Snitch," James announced to Remus, who was the only one lucid enough to keep track.

"Splendid. Additional difficulty?"

"L.A. Edition."

Sirius' head snapped up instantly. Peter dropped the Donald Duck shotglass and it cracked against the coffee table.

Remus looked amused. "Reconsider?"

"Denied."

Lily had to admit, upon hearing the details of this particular variation, she was a little wary. But there was no turning back now—she was going to win this thing or, well, crash into a wall trying. Plus, the booze in her veins didn't exactly lend itself to caution.

"Alrighty then. Floor's all yours."

James turned to Lily. "Ready?" he asked. She nodded, and he turned around. Like _New York Evolved_, she'd been informed, the L.A. Edition incorporated the Norwegian Ridgeback.

In some sort of attempt to get her head properly in the game, Lily bounced up and down for a few seconds before she jumped onto James' back. He accepted her weight easily, rearranging his arms so that they were tucked around her legs, and for a moment, in her state of wooziness, Lily became hyper-aware of the fact that he was _right there_. For some reason, her eyes felt the need to examine every inch of his up-closeness with fascination, from the way his hairline connected to the base of his neck, to the heat and faint vanilla-y scent radiating from his skin, and even to the backs of his ears and the curved edges of his glasses where they sat, indenting faintly into his flesh. It was the strangest sensation, as though she was suddenly aware of the fact that James Potter was a living, breathing human being.

He turned his head, and Lily noticed that her head was about a millimetre away from resting on his shoulder. She stared at his profile.

"All set?" he asked again, tightening his grip around her legs.

Lily nodded determinedly. "Let's blow this popsicle stand," she responded, and then frowned. "...I don't know why I just said that."

"Take your mark," Remus called. "Get set... Pete, seriously, get back in position. And... go!"

James launched himself unhesitatingly into the course. They had three metres' grace where they were allowed contact with the carpet, and so James took two long, bounding strides before leaping up onto the seat of an armchair. Peter went in for an early kill, but James reacted quickly. He snatched up a pillow from the chair and deflected Peter's malicious shot, simultaneously shouting "NOT TODAY, WORMTAIL!" Lily had to admit it was pretty impressive.

James threw himself from one obstacle to the next, batting the ball along beside them as he went. He teetered occasionally but never touched the carpet. All the while, Lily simply clung on for dear life and tried her hardest not to be too cumbersome. She wished she could be more useful to her team's efforts; resolving to do exactly this, she turned her head to the side. As soon as she did, she caught sight of Sirius. He was creeping stealthily up behind them, just out of James' field of vision, with his cushion at the ready. The manic look in his eyes made her think of a thunderstorm.

"BEHIND YOU!" Lily cried. But James had just landed on an upside-down laundry basket and it was struggling to support their combined weight. He turned at Lily's warning, the sudden movement making them tip dangerously sideways. Were Sirius to hit them with any force, they would surely fall.

Sure enough, Sirius chose this moment to take a shot at the unstable pair. So Lily did the only thing she could think of—she reached out, grabbed the curtain hanging from the window, and yanked it out horizontally. Sirius' pillow thumped into it and fell to the ground, while Lily and James were effectively shielded by the thin fabric shroud.

"That's not allowed!" Sirius complained,

"Fair play," Remus countered. "Carry on."

Unfortunately, the action, while saving their metaphorical butts, had left Lily and James even more unbalanced on the basket. There was a loud _crack _as the plastic broke and they sunk into its shattered remains.

"The chair!" Lily shouted frantically, gesturing to her teammate, who was struggling to stay perched on a tiny piece of plastic while keeping tabs on the broom and ball. "The chair!"

James caught on immediately and reached out for the five-wheel office chair to which Lily was pointing. In a swift but nervy motion, he flicked the ball into the hallway and positioned his knees on the seat, gripping the chair back with one hand. He then proceeded to use the broom handle as a makeshift paddle, pushing them steadily through the doorway. Peter took another shot; Lily and James both ducked their heads just in time.

Once they'd made it through, James sent the ball to the opposite end of the hallway.

"On the count of three," he said, "push off the wall has hard as you can." Lily nodded and placed one hand against the wall, which was all she could manage. "One—ah, screw it."

With that, he jammed his foot into the wall and propelled them forward. Their combined strength sent them ripping down the hallway in about a second flat. James rolled the ball left into the kitchen. Sirius uttered a frightening war cry as he came through the door from behind them and threw the cushion with all his might. Lily, however, had been prepared for this; while James grasped one side of the kitchen doorway in each of his hands and drew back like a slingshot, she kicked open Bob's office door.

The slingshot was released. Lily fired a gloating look at Sirius as the pillow missed them by inches and disappeared into the darkest, messiest room in the house. As the aggravated Beater growled and hurried into the shadowy territory to retrieve his weapon, Lily and James rolled onwards into the kitchen. By some stroke of luck, the ball had come to a halt right in front of the strip of tape marking the shooting zone. This was it, Lily thought vaguely as the chair continued to edge forward. Peter and Sirius were nowhere to be found, although Remus and Petunia had tailgated them into the room and were now watching with bated breath.

"You know what to do," James breathed as they came to a halt, and Lily nodded, her chin tapping his shoulder. "On my count... Three, two, one..." With the broom, he flipped the ball up so that it was held in his hand, "GO!"

Lily released her grip on James' back just as Sirius and Peter burst through the doorway with their cushions. Running on pure adrenaline and not really thinking about what she was doing, she sprung off of the chair in the general direction of the bottles, trying to attain as much height and distance as possible.

The next second, as she barrelled through the air, seemed to pass in slow motion.

There was a moment of contact between hazel and green eyes. Lily stared at James, who gave a minute nod and then drew his arm back, tossing the ball toward her. Somehow, still suspended in midair, Lily felt her fingers curl around the plastic sphere, heard the faint jingle as it lodged itself firmly in her hands...

And then there was an almighty crashing noise as she finally succumbed to gravity and hit the bottles and the linoleum.

She lay still for a moment after the landing, vaguely aware that she should be in pain but feeling nothing of the sort—only a manic thrumming in her veins. All was silent save for the sound of glass rolling along the floor. Several people inhaled sharply in anticipation, and then there was a final _clink_ and James expelled a deafening cheer.

"Hold on!" Remus interjected, stepping forward. "Lily, stay where you are. I need to evaluate."

Lily did as she was told, though the suspense made this rather difficult.

Breathing heavily, Lily watched Remus' feet as he examined the scene before him at length. Finally, he walked off to the side and his marker squeaked against the whiteboard.

"Alright, guys," he announced. "Base value of two-sixty, bonus points in four categories... That's a two-eighty-fiver right there. Victory goes to Lily and Prongs!"

"NOOOO!" Sirius was the first to react. From where Lily lay on the floor, he sounded completely rabid and enraged—almost demonic.

She sat up slowly. Her head was spinning from a million different factors—the alcohol, the lingering adrenaline, the victory, the fact that she had just willingly catapulted herself onto the floor, to name a few—and she was still struggling to get her bearings when someone yanked her to her feet.

"YES!" James cried, spinning her around in a random, overenthusiastic victory dance. His cheeks were pink, his glasses slightly askew, and his hair messy with sweat and exertion. This continued for a few seconds, the two of them spinning around in circles, before they both began to feel a little woozy and slowly stuttered to a halt. Lily, for some reason, ended up staring right up into James' face as he grinned crookedly down at her. For one brief, insane, obviously tequila-fueled moment, she had the strangest feeling that he might kiss her. And then he said, in a very low voice, "You and me, we're the captains."

Lily only remembered that this was a line from the song when Peter's highly intoxicated and very out-of-tune voice burst out "Hi' the bottles, hear'em... smash!" from somewhere behind them.

Remus, meanwhile, was putting the cap back on his marker. "Nicely played."

Lily folded her arms and stumbled back a few paces. "What do we win, then?" she asked loudly.

"Eternal glory!" James shouted, raising a fist into the air as though to seize some invisibly epic prize.

"Well, it's eternal until the next time we play and someone else wins, anyway," Remus corrected.

"Reckon that's why Padfoot's being such a SORE LOSER," James said. "Doesn't like having his title torn right out from under his arse. Mate, are you going to get over it or what?"

Sirius glanced over at them from under a tense brow. "Well," he grunted, "Probably can't stay mad at someone who's so bloody good at Quidditch," he said, looking at Lily. "Shit, I reckon Lulu just made Quidditch history in 'bout seven different ways an' she hasn't even played before!" Lily smirked, then laughed. "Still, though, I'm gonna kill you for what you did with that damn door."

Over the next half hour, Sirius' mood improved gradually along with his intake of alcohol—and before they knew it, he was back to his usual hyperactive, blabbermouth self.

"I pr'pose," he announced. "That we are all quite drunkened—er, that is to say, drunk enough t' take this party downstairs. All in favour say... say..." He frowned. "... Say 'Aye!', that's the one."

"Aye!" James agreed heartily.

Petunia, for no apparent reason, giggled at this. The sound was grating and far too loud. "_James_," she said, all drawn out and breathy. "You're so funny... so... perfect..." She looked confused for a moment, and then went back to examining her favourite Marauder through huge, awe-bright eyes.

Lily, whose head was quite foggy—though not altogether polluted—grimaced. It was becoming readily apparent that Drunk Petunia _literally _saw no one but James Potter. For some reason, this made her angry.

"To the basement!" Sirius commanded, grabbing the remaining tequila and setting off as though leading a military platoon. Everyone followed, in varying states of inebriation, while the stoically sober Remus trailed behind in amusement. He was watching the scene play out through the tiny screen of the video camera.

When they reached the stairs, Sirius took a few woozy steps and stumbled. "Wow..." he said, and then reached out to steady himself with the walls on either side. "Everybody hold on!" he shouted as he descended, as though they were on a dangerously lurching boat.

His companions took his order quite seriously, too, and they were a mess of unsteady staggering as they slowly made their way down into the basement.

"Made it," Peter said proudly the moment he hit the landing. He proceeded to lose his balance and stumble awkwardly into the wall. "Hah," he snorted, "Hah hah..." He dissolved into a laughing fit, and then began to glower. "Stop making me laugh," he burst out angrily at no one in particular. "I have t'pee."

"Then go, my good man," James commanded.

Peter considered for a moment. "To pee, or not to pee... That is the... the..."

"Pete, just go." Remus patted his shoulder and steered him back up the stairs.

The rest of the troupe congregated in the abandoned concert area. Sirius made a beeline for the CD player and started jabbing buttons at random, cursing sporadically as he flicked through song after song in Petunia's endless Marauders playlist. Empty cup in hand, James took complete ownership of the sofa with his legs splayed out and his arms slung over the back of it. Petunia followed him blindly and collapsed into his side. Tilting her head up in the sweaty crook of James' shoulder, she gazed stupidly at the underside of his face.

Lily, meanwhile, transformed her cup into a shrivelled hunk of plastic as she looked on and decided, for whatever reason, to take a seat right there on the floor.

"Jaaames," Petunia whispered. She expelled a tiny giggle before reverting to seriousness. "Jaaaames, I... I thing I—"

At that moment, Sirius whooped as he settled on a bass-heavy track that seemed to have finally caught his fancy. He pumped the volume way, way up, and James went flying out of his seat, catapulting Petunia across the room.

"I LOVE THISSONG!" James bellowed, punching the air with both fists. "WHOOOOO!"

While James and Sirius started to sing along at an outrageous volume to their own music, Lily watched Petunia—who looked a little woozy from having just hit the wall for the second time that night—stagger to her feet. She looked around the room in confusion, her eyes glancing across everything until they zeroed in on James. Like a disturbingly blonde robot, she zoomed to his side and started jumping up and down with him. Almost reflexively, James snaked an arm around her waist.

Lily felt her skin getting hotter and suddenly, she was filled with hatred for all of them. "TOO LOUD!" she shouted, still rooted to the floor. "YOU'RE BEING TOO LOUD!"

But of course, they didn't hear her at all. Suddenly, Lily had the oddest flashback to a dream of Tuesday Hats and turbulent chocolate milk. She dug her fingernails into the carpet.

"Lulu!" Sirius, grinning like an idiot, thumped down onto the carpet beside her. He fell into her shoulder with a slight wobble and a few slow blinks. "Wow, ev'rything looks really... tall from down here. _Hello!_" he called to James, as though he was on another planet.

Lily, too, looked up at the messy-haired Marauder, who now appeared to be autographing a delirious Petunia's arm. _Prat._ _Git. Idiot. _Her gaze fell upon the golden substance swirling around in the bottle that was dangling from Sirius' hand. "Gimme that," she ordered, pulling it from his grasp. Then, she tilted the bottle up so that the liquid seared down her throat, watching the way the disco lights shot through the sloshing remains as they filtered slowly down the neck of the container. She drank until the burn in her throat faded to numbness.

And that was the last clear memory that Lily had of that evening.

* * *

In fact, there was only one person involved who would remember any more than a few hazy snippets beyond that point. Remus, whose illness stopped him being able to join the ranks of the mentally incapacitated, observed the night's events with some amusement, some pity and a heavy portion of exasperation as the antics of the five drunks progressed from silly to downright catastrophic.

It wasn't that he thought himself above them or anything like that. Having toured with the Marauders for years before his diagnosis, he'd certainly had his share of crazy nights, including some after-parties he could scarcely remember attending. But he had never taken as much pleasure in "getting totally shitfaced" as James and Sirius always had, and he didn't have quite as little shame as Peter—so when the doctor had told him it would be a good idea to stop drinking, it was no great sacrifice. Naturally, being the only sober one in the room had its pitfalls and most of the time he felt as though he was on an entirely different plane to his plastered mates. But he had recently learned to appreciate the entertainment value of it all.

Shortly after the deafening music came on (it was _We, The Messers_, an instrumentally demanding track that had taken the Marauders seven infuriating months to record) Peter came barrelling back down the stairs, ricocheting off the walls like a charged pinball. He blundered into the madness, tripping over Lily in the process and shouting "K.O., baby!" rather than apologizing. Boy, was that a mistake.

"Is your head filled with _lard?_" Lily growled in the most terrifying voice Remus had ever heard. Then she threw the empty tequila bottle at his head.

Fortunately, the alcohol cut her aim by about fifty percent, and she hit his lower back instead. Still, Peter yelped in pain and ran as far away from her as he could manage in the cramped space.

Remus hissed quietly at the impact. Lily Evans was what most people would call an 'angry drunk'. Well, no, actually, that was rather understating it. It seemed the influence of alcohol unleashed all of the anger and frustration that was usually trapped by her conscience, pushing it to the surface in dangerous quantities. (Not that Remus was an expert psychoanalyst or anything, but having witnessed rooms full of piss-drunk adolescents more times than he cared to admit, he figured he was at least partially qualified to make such assessments.)

"James!" Petunia was simpering in another corner of the room. Remus remarked silently that it was one of the only words he had heard her utter all night. The blonde was latched firmly onto James' arm, as she had been for the past ten minutes. "I jus' wanna be with you... an'... and kiss you... and sing songs... an' eat scones together, but the fah-free ones... James... Le'ss kiss, James..."

"One at a time, one at a time," James said loudly and importantly, as though he was battling down a sea of fangirls. He pulled a marker from his pocket, and although Petunia was already covered in more semi-permanent '**James Potter**'s than anyone could count, she held her arm out eagerly as he added another autograph to the collection. "There you go, love. Who's next?" he asked, scanning the room eagerly. His eyes lit up. "Firecracker!" he cried, advancing toward her with the uncapped marker.

"Sod _off_," Lily responded, shoving him out of the way and stumbling over to the other side of the room.

"Aw, don' be like that..."

"James!" called Peter. "Me next, come on." He held his shirt up eagerly.

Several seconds later, James appeared in front of Remus. "I just signed Wormtail's chest," he announced.

"Congratulations."

"...Tha'ss weird, isn't it?"

"A little, yeah."

"Don' s'pose you want one, too?" He held up the Sharpie half-heartedly.

Remus' expression became rather bemused. "No, thanks, mate."

"Right..." Looking slightly confused, James wandered off again.

Inebriated James Potter was in a category all his own, Remus had finally decided after several failed attempts to classify his friend's pompous, delusional behaviour. Sober James had a certain spark of overconfidence that both the public and the band's managers seemed to enjoy, but when supplied with alcohol his ego inflated by inhuman magnitudes and James slipped into what Remus called "After Party Mode"—a state in which he catered to thousands of adoring fans, whether or not they were actually there.

Sirius, on the other hand, just wanted everyone to have a good time. When his first song choice faded to a close, he sat by the stereo and flicked through more tracks, repeatedly calling out: "This one, guys?" "Is thissss-one good?" "DOES E'RRBODY CONSENT TO THIS SONG, I NEED T'KNOW!"

"Shaddup," Lily barked, raking her hands through her hair. "You're ru— roone— ruinin' the party, idiot."

"No, you are!" Sirius said, abandoning the stereo to grab her wrists. "C'mon, up y'get! Come get an augograph or... or summin."

Lily protested viciously, and Sirius was so unsteady on his feet that he, too, ended up on the floor. So he just rolled onto his back, pointed up at the fragmented disco light, and said "Look, Lulu, juss like stars."

And things kept on rolling down that steep, rocky slope, with Remus sitting by and the camera recording everything, until his duty beckoned and he sidled in to pick up the pieces, dragging the senseless partygoers out of the rubble one by one.

* * *

Despite his sobriety, there was one particular moment from that night that Remus Lupin would never be able to recall—not for any sort of amnesia or forgetfulness, but for the simple fact that he did not bear witness to it. As such, it would end up being a moment that _no one _remembered the following morning. And perhaps that was a good thing.

It all started with the lights.

Petunia Evans, face covered in a sheen of sweat and flush, stared up at the flickering bulbs as though in a trance, watching the beams dance across the ceiling. It hurt, she registered vaguely, the way they were burning into her eyes. And yet she did not seem to be able to look away. There was something utterly fascinating about the way the colours bounced around the... the... _where _was she, again?

Her stomach lurched. She levelled her gaze and found herself quite unable to see as she blinked perplexedly around the space. Everything was too bright and too dark at the same time, and she didn't feel good. No, she _really _didn't feel good.

"Twiggie!"

The voice was familiar, and someone steadied her as she made to fall to her knees on the floor. There were heavy, warm hands supporting her arms.

"Twiggie, don' die..." Sirius drawled from behind her. His breath smelled like rubbing alcohol. Petunia gagged.

"Easy there, i'sss 'kay," said Sirius. She was vaguely aware of being hoisted up by her waist and pulled toward the stairs. "Up you go..."

It was a wonder Petunia managed to hold it in, and an even bigger wonder that Sirius, who was perhaps the drunkest of the lot, succeeded in getting her up the stairs. Next thing she knew she was in the bathroom, falling over the toilet bowl and puking her guts out. Petunia had made a distinct point of not vomiting for years now, and the suppressed part of her brain that handled such matters was screaming at her, about the proximity of her face to the toilet seat and the germ-infested patch of floor where her hands rested, but she could hardly hear it for the fuzz that filled her head. She spared a brief thought to her hair but found it was, miraculously, already swept back from her face. A hand rested on her back and a soothing, slurring voice kept saying: "I'sss 'kay, ledditout..."

When Petunia drew back from the toilet bowl and curled up on the floor, groaning, Sirius hoisted her up and blindly took her to the sitting room sofa—but didn't quite make it that far. He staggered into several Quidditch obstacles and became so confused that he had to settle for a piece of carpet instead, though he tucked her in meticulously all the same.

By morning, this would all dissolve into nothingness. In Petunia's memories there would be a gaping hole between the sparkling lights and the moment when she woke up on the sitting room floor, rolled up perfectly in a blanket with no idea how she got there. Her speculations were far from correct, and Sirius—who recalled little beyond his epic Quidditch loss—would do nothing to reveal the true nature of the night's end, even if he could.

* * *

The night was not yet over for everybody.

Several hours later, as the blue light of the moon calmly looked on, Lily Evans opened her eyes. She was in her room, lying on her bed the wrong way around, with her feet tangled in her pillow and her head pressed against the footboard. The lights were on, and this proved to be very disorienting as she looked out the window and saw only blackness. She blinked groggily several times and tried to remember _something, anything, _and it was then that she noticed her white tank top had a huge, amber-coloured stain spread across its front.

_Quidditch_...

Lily sat up—something that proved to be quite a process—and twisted around until she was staring into the mirror above her vanity on the other side of the room. Her plait was completely destroyed, with strands of hair falling out everywhere, and one of her earrings was mysteriously absent. Not to mention, her mind was buzzing in a manner that suggested there was still a fairly high concentration of alcohol pumping through her veins.

How she had gotten from the Quidditch game to here, Lily hadn't a clue. Faint traces of memories lurked in the back of her mind—_basement stairs, autographs, flashing lights_—but they were mere ghosts, and she was so, so tired. With a groan, she slumped back down against her mattress, wishing the lights would shut themselves off, as getting up to do it herself seemed such a chore.

Then, a creak.

Lily opened her eyes again. There was someone standing in her doorway.

"...Lily?"

It was James. He took a few steps forward, until the light caught him fully, and then stopped again. Lily had long ago accepted that James Potter was good-looking, but in this moment, he was something else entirely. The beams from the ceiling lamp clung to his hair, turning the tips from jet black to mahogany, and then spilled onto his face to illuminate the planes and angles there. Lily, still pressed against her bed sheets, stared.

"I, err..." James moved properly into her doorway and pulled something out from behind his back—his guitar. "I sort of wanted to, well... Do you mind?"

Lily dragged herself upright once more and swept her wayward hair out of her face. She was unsure what he was asking, exactly, but nodded anyway.

James took a few hesitant steps forward. _He's in my room_, Lily thought tiredly, though her brain couldn't process the enormity of it just now. She watched silently as he pulled out her desk chair and sat down on it, facing her with his guitar perched on his lap and his fingers caressing its strings.

And then he began to play. Soft yet lively, the music filled the entire room and had Lily simply staring, mesmerized.

_You__  
__Think I've had it easy__  
__You think I'm insufferable__  
__But here I go, telling you what you don't know_

These four lines were all it took for Lily to become flooded with a sense of complete deja-vu. This song—the strumming pattern, the chords, the smooth lyrics, _everything—_was familiar in a way that she could not describe.

_I'm human__  
__Nothing like what you've heard__  
__A picture's worth a thousand words, they say__  
__But it can't explain the way that_

_I feel__  
__Could this all be more real__  
__Every time I look at you__  
__It's all I do__  
__But you don't have a clue_

The start of the chorus was when it finally hit her. It was the same song that had woken her up all those nights ago—the very same that James had been composing right before she'd booted him and the other Marauders out of the house.

_'Cause when it all falls__  
__I can't make a sound__  
__There's something perfect in the way you cut me down__  
__And even though it's hard__  
__I get right back up again__  
__'Cause what you don't know is that__  
__You're beautiful to me__  
__You're beautiful to me__  
__Oh oh_

_Starlight__  
__Can't escape your bright eyes__  
__For all I know you hate my guts__  
__You probably think__  
__I've sung this to a hundred girls and_

_I'm sorry__  
__For barging into your life__  
__But you're the one who barged into my heart__  
__And I'm not gonna stop until_

_I know that__  
__This is what you want__  
__Can we be more than civilized?__  
__You're all I need__  
__How can I make you see_

_That when the rain falls_  
_I think I just might drown_  
_'Cause there is magic in this godforsaken town_  
_And when the sun shines again_  
_I know I'll be a better man_  
_'Cause what you don't know is that_  
_You're beautiful to me_

_And we were fated from the day you walked right through that door__  
__'Cause when it opened the light came in and now I know__  
__Now I know,__  
__Now I know for sure_

_That when the light falls__  
__I can't make a sound__  
__There's something beautiful in your reflection now__  
__And even when it's dark__  
__I'm caught up in your spell__  
__'Cause what you don't know is__  
__Nothing feels the same when you're around__  
__And if I had one chance to take this back__  
__I wouldn't turn around because__  
__It's everything to me._

Without a word, James stood up and walked away. He paused momentarily—then, with a flick of the light switch, Lily was flooded in soothing darkness.

And then he was gone.

Lily sat for the next few minutes in a dream-like state, mulling over but not quite digesting what had just happened. Soon enough, exhaustion got the better of her and she melted back into her sheets, closing her eyes and drifting away from the night's adventures.

At the bottom of the stairs, wrapped in a blanket, a small, blonde figure stood, listening.

* * *

**A/N:** It is hot. We have melted. We have also just been told that we will witness the first and only performance of A Very Potter Senior Year in less than a month. Needless to say, we are in no state to write a coherent author's note.

Sinseerlie,

Liz and Sam

(_Seven Scribbles_)


	10. Guiding Star

**Disclaimer:** we dont own any of this stuff lolz. so like we are kind of criminals. maybe we should go to jail. (That was our brother. We recruited him for this chapter's disclaimer and apparently this is what we get.)

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

Guiding Star

* * *

The day following the concert was nothing short of completely bizarre. Between a throbbing left temple and unshakable fatigue, Lily couldn't even be certain she was awake until she went to sleep again that night. The others didn't fare much better; Peter was in the bathroom for hours, Sirius winced at small noises, and Petunia only made it halfway down the stairs before sinking down and spending the rest of the day comatose on the landing. Nobody had an appetite for breakfast—had Lily even been willing to cook it—and activity, for the most part, was limited to dragging one's feet to the kitchen for water, exchanging terse conversation with anybody one happened to collide with, and shooting Remus murderous looks when he said things like "Football, anybody?" and "We could use some light in here."

And then there was James.

Lily almost wished she couldn't remember the three-A.M. serenade, but she did. Vaguely. Fragments of James' song floated through her memory like infuriating, slippery little ghosts, and she could recall feeling immensely confused as she had fallen asleep. But she couldn't be sure if she was remembering correctly—and worse still, she had no way of knowing if James remembered at _all_. This made it ridiculously awkward whenever they happened to cross paths.

"Oh, sorry," James had said, around midday, after they'd mistakenly brushed arms for the sixth time in the kitchen doorway.

"It's okay."

"Any better?"

"Nope, still looking for a hole to crawl into."

He laughed politely at her dismal wisecrack. "Crazy night, huh?"

"Yeah."

There was a spell of dubious eye contact that was intensely uncomfortable all around.

"My head's a mess from all that music," James then said rather slowly. Was he hinting at something? Lily didn't have the energy to decode his meaning.

"Yeah," she said instead. It was the truth after all. "...So's mine."

James caught her eye for half a moment, and the two shared a very brief glance that was nothing but frustrating in its ambiguity.

"Well, anyway, I don't want to interrupt your search for a hole..." He frowned, and squinted, "...to climb into. God, that sounded better in my head, sorry."

Lily, too, squinted, although it was more of a defence mechanism against the glare that was coming through the gauzy curtains. "Yeah, thanks," she replied dazedly. "I reckon I'll be shut up in the pantry if you need me."

"Bad luck, I'm pretty sure Sirius has been living in there all day. Something about not having to move every time he needs a 'medicinal tea cake'."

"Sirius?" Remus, who had been passing by, threw in. "Yeah, I went looking for some honey for my tea earlier and he almost combusted when I opened the door. I'm mildly worried about him."

"Oh god." Lily deadpanned. "Guess I'll try the cupboard under the stairs, then. Knowing my luck, Peter's probably got that all staked out."

"Well, _you don't_ _know _that, though," James said. There was a forced awkwardness to the words, and he immediately looked as though he regretted them.

Lily froze for a second, as the words dragged up a loose memory of lyrics and a soothing tune. _What you don't know is that..._ She looked up intently—that was a hint, wasn't it?—but James was already looking past her with a blank expression.

It was all in her head. James was hungover and not paying attention to what he was saying, and she was looking pathetically for meaning where there was none.

"I guess I don't," she told him stupidly. "Er, see you later."

With that, she had brushed past him and into the hallway, entirely missing the way his eyes followed her all the way out.

And the day continued in this awkward, aggravating manner. Every time they were forced to exchange pleasantries, it seemed like he was dropping tiny clues. Lily made a few subtle references for her part, but these only caused James to go rigid, eye her suspiciously, then mumble an excuse and wander off shaking his head. In the end, Lily gave up entirely and locked herself in Bob's office for the remainder of the daylight hours.

When she emerged around suppertime, Petunia had finally conquered the last of the stairs and was milling about the living area, trying to clean things up from last night. She wasn't making much progress, mostly due to the fact that she was working on her knees and had to curl up in a ball every metre or so.

Lily, who was slightly better for wear after indulging in a bag of cheesy puffs she'd found in Bob's closet (silently thanking him for this work of clandestine genius) decided to help her out. She began to rearrange the furniture, shoving the sofas back into place and dragging odds and ends back to their respective rooms. It was only when she came to retrieve Bob's rolly chair that she noticed how icy the atmosphere had become. She glanced down to find Petunia just sitting there, not even trying anymore, just glaring at Lily with stony eyes and a bratty pout on her face.

"What?" said Lily, who couldn't think what might've sparked this sudden hostility. After all, hadn't they been getting along uncannily well last night?

Petunia said nothing. She jerked her head away from Lily and started plucking tiny blue beads from who-knew-what out of the carpet.

Lily wondered if Petunia blamed her for spiking her Vitamin Water, or at least for the way things had gone down last night. She was probably upset about looking like an out-of-control idiot in front of her future husband, or something along those lines. Not that she needed to be inebriated to accomplish that.

"Do you need water or something?" Lily offered grudgingly.

Once again, Petunia did not respond. She gathered up the beads in one hand and pelted them at the waste bin on the other side of the room, missing fantastically.

"Right then," said Lily, "enjoy your hangover." And she left Petunia to her devices.

However, as the house was small and everyone seemed to be doing a lot of aimless wandering today, it was impossible to avoid either James or her sister, and the frustration of both situations became intolerable. For the sake of distraction, Lily threw herself into making a semi-passable dinner that was mainly composed of bread and canned soup, then tossed it on the table along with an assorted stack of bowls and cutlery.

"Dinner," she called out half-heartedly to anyone who might have been listening.

Unsurprisingly, Remus was the only one who responded to her summons. He shuffled through the doorway, took his seat with a small nod of acknowledgement, and helped himself to some minestrone.

"Sorry it's nothing special," Lily offered dully.

"Lily, it's food. Trust me, I'm not complaining."

They both ate in silence for a moment, utensils clinking against bowls. Lily found herself staring across the table at her company with a critical gaze. Finally, she set her spoon down. "You know, you're far too nice to be a Marauder."

Remus lifted his brows; a half smile pulled at his lips. "I didn't realize there was a strict meanness quotient we had to fill."

"Not _meanness _necessarily, just..." She paused, trying to figure out the best way to put what she was thinking into words. "I feel as though the fame hasn't gone to your head quite as much as it has the others."

At this, Remus let out a short burst of laughter. "Not really saying much, is it?" he quipped, and Lily spared a laugh. "But, thanks, I suppose. I've got a pretty good support system to keep me grounded, is all."

"_Support system_," Lily repeated, picking up on something in the way he'd said it. "...of the_ female_ variety?"

"Something like that," he admitted.

Lily smirked. "So, not as 'single and ready to mingle' as the magazines would have your fans believe, then?"

"Boy Band 101," Remus told her very seriously. "All members must be perpetually single and 'willing to date a fan' in order to maximize album sales. Trust me, it's one of the key elements of success." The self-parodying nature of his analysis reminded Lily once again of why he was her favourite Marauder. "That and I like to keep my private life away from the mad clutches of the paparazzi as much as I can."

"I don't blame you," she replied earnestly. There were a few seconds of silence, and then her eyes narrowed. "So what's her name, then?"

Remus hesitated only very slightly. "Marley." Some distant trace of a smile graced his eyes when he spoke the next words. "Well, Marlene, but call her that and she'll physically hurt you, guaranteed."

Lily laughed. "She sounds _lovely_."

"In all honesty though... she is. You'd get on with her."

Lily's smile faded a little. "You must really miss her."

"Yeah." Remus nodded. "I do."

"Well now I'm curious," she said in an attempt to try and dispel some of the gloom. "I don't suppose you have a picture?"

"Honestly, people only carry around photos in those terribly clichéd romance movies," Remus responded. As Lily made to open her mouth, he pulled a small square of worn paper from his pocket and sighed. "And in real life, when they're on the run from murderous Russian billionaires. Here."

Lily reached across the table to take the photograph.

Marley was very pretty. She had blondish hair that fell to her shoulders, a smattering of freckles and a big, blinding smile. In the picture, she had her arms slung around the neck of a Remus who was immeasurably different to the Remus that Lily knew. His eyes were bright, his grin genuine and carefree. A blue sky blazed behind them, white-lit by a flash of sun that caught in their hair and the sand of a tranquil beach.

"Last summer," Remus offered.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Lily handed back the photograph, "but you look so _happy_."

Remus smiled ruefully as he tucked the thin slip back into his pocket. "That was about two months before I was diagnosed."

"Ah. I'm sorry."

"No worries." He shrugged easily. "It's not just that, anyway; it's Marley. She's just one of those people that it's impossible to be unhappy around."

Lily remembered the bright blue eyes, the sunlit smile; it wasn't hard to believe. "Well, here's hoping you get to see her again soon."

"Yeah. Oy, you'll have to meet her. I'm not joking when I say you'd get on. You two think exactly the same way, I swear. Only she's a bit less... cynical." He caught her eye with a half-smile. "No offense."

Lily let out a wry laugh. "None taken."

Dinner ended up being fairly brief. Remus helped to clear things away as the sun set outside the sliding doors, and by the time the leftovers were all packed up, the backyard had already disappeared into darkness. The glass doors shone with a bright reflection of the kitchen interior.

"I'm headed up to bed, I think," Lily told Remus, ignoring the pathetically early time displayed on the stove clock. "Er, feel free to watch telly or something."

"Sure," he replied. "Sleep well."

Her legs may as well have been made of lead for how they felt as she dragged them up the stairs. When she finally crested the landing, all she wanted was to quickly brush her teeth, throw some pyjamas on, and collapse into bed. The bathroom light was shining, which was strange, but Lily didn't think twice about it until she shuffled in and saw the blonde-haired figure stooped over the sink. Her sister was standing in front of the mirror, hair pulled back under a pink headband as she scrubbed her face vigorously with a washcloth.

Petunia stiffened momentarily, but otherwise made no sign of recognition. She carried on with her cleansing routine, deliberately ignoring her sister as she slipped in behind her. When Lily made to grab her toothbrush, however, Petunia's body shifted minutely as though to block her reach. Wondering what on earth had gotten into her, Lily twisted around until she could grasp the handle, yanking it toward her and giving her sister a _what the hell _look through the mirror. Petunia finally caught her eye, offering a frosty glare and then turning the water on full blast to rinse her face off.

As she waited for the sink to be free, Lily put a glob of toothpaste onto her toothbrush and stood there impatiently. It took almost a full minute, but Petunia finally spun the taps off and reached for her towel, making a show of patting it all over her cheeks and forehead. With great annoyance, Lily made a break for the sink, but found her path obstructed yet again. Petunia had grabbed her hairbrush and was continuing to monopolize the mirror space.

"Can I just..." Lily motioned for the faucet, irritated.

Petunia ignored her. She pulled the brush through her hair in jerky motions, face tight and jaw clenched.

That was when Lily snapped. She was tired, her head hurt, and all she wanted to do was to bloody brush her teeth and leave. Not sparing a thought to the consequences, she stepped forward, pushed her sister aside, and bodily shoved her way through to the sink.

Surprisingly (or perhaps not, given her sister's current state), Petunia held her ground. She let out a growl and elbowed back, and the skeletal joint was like a knife. Lily gasped in pain. Then, she returned the gesture, sending Petunia staggering sideways into the towel rack.

"Argh!" Petunia reeled, holding a hand to her shoulder. In less than a second, she turned around and used her palm to slap Lily's toothbrush out of her hand. It clattered to the floor, paste-side down.

"_What the hell_?" Lily burst out hysterically. "_What is your problem_?"

Unfortunately for all parties, Harry chose this moment to come trotting into the bathroom. He leaped up onto the counter with a loud _meow _and brushed against Lily's arm, staring at the scene with sharp green eyes.

"Get. Him. Out." Petunia's voice was trembling.

But Lily was incensed. "No!" she said. "Not when you're being such a—"

"_GET HIM OUT!"_

"Bloody hell, NO!" Lily snatched the cat and held him indignantly. "_Why _are you so angry at me? What did I do? Seriously, please tell me, because I have no sodding idea."

Petunia inhaled so sharply that her nostrils flared. There was a long beat of silence. "I _saw _you, alright?" she spoke in a strained whisper.

Lily's mouth sprang open in automatic retaliation, but she stopped cold when she realized she had absolutely no idea what Petunia was on about.

"Saw me?" she barked, more out of confusion than anger, before lowering her voice. "Pray tell, Petunia, what did you see me doing?"

Petunia blinked furiously at the wall, cheeks reddening. "You bloody well know what I'm talking about," she hissed. "You... James... _consorting_... in your bedroom. He was singing..."

A nasty shock burst through Lily's chest at the revelation. If Petunia had witnessed the episode, that meant it wasn't just a product of her demented dreams. But much worse than that, if Petunia had witnessed it... "I— It was— How do you even _know_ about that?" she demanded.

"Doesn't matter how I know," snapped Petunia. She met Lily's gaze steadfastly. "How could you, Lily? You _know_ how I feel about him."

Lily adjusted the weight of Harry in her arms. She wanted to be angry, to shout at Petunia how petty she was being and now it was none of her bloody business, thank you very much. But she didn't, and she couldn't. She realized right there and then that, by some completely bizarre turn of events, she actually felt guilty. Perhaps reading Lily's mind, Harry squirmed out of her arms and leapt to the floor as if to say: _You're on your own with this one_.

Petunia was still staring, channelling hatred and hurt across the space between them. Lily sighed.

"Okay, look," she said firmly. "It wasn't even a big deal. For starters, we weren't _consorting_... I don't even know what that's supposed to mean. I barely even remember what happened—I was asleep, and then he just walked in and— and—"

"Serenaded you with the most beautiful song he's ever written? Yeah, no big deal, _Lily_."

"He wasn't— God, Petunia, it's not like I _asked_ him to do it anyway!"

"But you liked it, I'll bet." Petunia's voice was very small now. "You'd have to be crazy not to."

Lily was silent, staring off at the ceramic soap dispenser. She hadn't really thought about it until now; she'd been too absorbed with the had-it-really-happened to consider the how-it-made-her-feel. Had she hated it? Well, of course not. But had she _liked_ it? Had it made her fall in love with him? That was the real question. She gritted her teeth with exasperation, unable to form words to express emotions that weren't even coherent themselves.

Petunia read her silence as shame, and tears began to spill from her eyes. "I've seen it, you know. The way he looks at you. The way you look at him. I'm not stupid. I just never thought you would—you know, after everything you said about him before he got here." She sniffed. "I thought you hated them all, Lily."

Strangely, it was precisely those words that cleared Lily's vision for a moment. She saw the sheer helplessness in Petunia's eyes and at last found an answer to her question. The encounter with James... it had made her insides tickle, that was all. There might be something between them, but it wasn't necessarily big enough to make an ordeal out of it. It was possible, she realized, that the confusing array of emotions she felt for James Potter were merely a result of his being so dramatically different from what she had pictured. Of course he was surpassing the bar when she had set it so low in the first place. But that didn't mean she was in love with the bloke. It certainly didn't mean she should steal her sister's happiness and throw it out on the freeway.

Lily pressed her palms to her forehead for a brief moment, took a deep breath, and looked at Petunia. "I did," she said. "Hate them, that is. I still think they're mostly gits, but I guess I was pretty wrong about them."

"We both were," Petunia surprisingly admitted.

"Yeah. About last night though, I just... Of course it was nice—flattering and all—but it wasn't... I don't feel that way about him, alright? He's a better bloke than I expected but that's all. Doesn't mean I'm going to join your stupid Marauderland fan club and definitely doesn't mean I'm out to marry him. And even if I was, you've had dibs on him for what, ten years or something?" She laughed; it didn't feel forced in the slightest, and she felt then that she had convinced not only Petunia, but herself as well.

Petunia also cracked a smile. "So you're saying..."

"_Nothing_ is going to happen between us," Lily said emphatically. "I promise."

While Petunia's tremulous smile grew even wider, Lily noticed Harry standing by the doorway. He was staring at her in a manner that could only be described as sceptical.

Wait a second, that was ridiculous. Her guilt was clearly manifesting itself in very odd ways, she decided, when Harry seemed to shake his head before turning around and walking back out into the hall.

"Lily that's—I'm so relieved—I just—" Petunia was hyperventilating. The tears in her eyes began to spill over again.

"Petunia," Lily said in exasperation, "there's nothing to _cry _about."

Her sister used her facecloth to wipe away the tear tracks. "I know it's stupid," she said, sniffing. "I wish I didn't like him so much, you know? But... I can't seem to stop." She sniffed again. "Sorry about your toothbrush."

Lily glanced down; she had momentarily forgotten about its fate. "It's alright. Nothing a bit of soap and disinfectant can't fix."

"Ew, no!" Petunia looked aghast. "Here, take this one." She rifled through her side of the cabinet and pulled out a brand new toothbrush, still in the packaging.

"Er, thanks," Lily said, accepting the offering.

They stood there for a few seconds until the moment started to fade out and the inevitable awkwardness began to float in.

"Well, goodnight." Petunia avoided her sister's eyes as she replaced her washcloth on the towel rack.

Lily nodded. "Goodnight."

Standing there on her own beneath the fluorescent lights, she glanced down at the toothbrush in her hand. A strange feeling of unease rose in her stomach as she listened to Petunia's light footsteps travelling down the hallway. Suddenly a bit ill, she tore the packaging off with a moderate amount of effort. Then, after glancing down at the pile of cardboard and plastic in her hand, she crumpled it all up and dropped it into the bin.

* * *

Strange noises had become so common in the Evans household that Lily barely took notice of the discord of shuffling, clanging and hushed voices coming from the kitchen when she woke up. In fact, she was so detached from the racket that when she was accosted by Peter on the lower landing, she nearly screamed.

"_Bienvenue_ _a Cafe Marauder,_" he said, offering a bow. "Table for one?" He gestured through the doorway to the kitchen table, where an ugly arrangement of dandelions sat amidst the place settings.

"Umm..." Lily, whose tired brain could not quite process what was going on, made a quizzical expression which Peter seemed to take as an okay. He looped his arm through hers and led her into the sunlit room.

It was like she had entered some parallel universe. The boys had completely taken over the kitchen, which was alive with the smell and sizzle of bacon, the sound of toast popping, and the clang of Remus' spatula against the frying pan. The sandy-haired Marauder was expertly separating a pound of bacon at the stove.

"Lulu! Our first customer of the day!" Sirius called out happily. He strolled over to the stove with a carton of eggs under his arm. "Poached, sunny-side-up, or scrambled?"

"Translation," James said, not looking up from the bag of bread he was opening. "Scrambled, scrambled, or mutilated beyond recognition?"

Lily could not help but smile. "Surprise me," she said as Peter steered her toward the head of the table.

"Milady." He bowed once more and pulled her chair out, then gallantly offered her a pile of tissues she assumed was standing in for a serviette. Lily thanked him with a tiny nod and he scampered off into the kitchen to fetch a pitcher of juice.

Unsure what to do with herself, Lily toyed restlessly with a ring on her index finger and kept a close eye on the Marauders. Sirius met her gaze and smirked.

"You doubt my culinary expertise," he called out over all the sizzling and popping. "I'll have you know I am _quite_ the— Gads!"

He jumped back in alarm as his questionable egg solution hit the frying pan and erupted in a torrent of steam.

Lily itched to jump up from her chair, but Remus stepped in calmly and fiddled with something on the stove. "Might not want to have this turned up all the way, mate," he said. "And _gads_? What are you, a sixty year old woman?"

"Nah, 'cause he'd be good at cooking then," said James. Sirius narrowed his eyes and, brandishing a spatula like a weapon, shouldered his way back to the stove.

"I'll show you all," he grumbled, prodding at the egg.

As it turned out, Lily's breakfast was surprisingly adequate. When Peter placed it before her with a flourish and a "_Bon appetit_", she glanced down to see two slices of buttered toast, a generous helping of crispy bacon and a pile of scrambled eggs that was more or less passable as actual food.

"Wow," she said, duly impressed. The Marauders were standing around her eagerly, awaiting the verdict of their efforts. James hung back a bit, and Lily suddenly became aware of lingering awkwardness between them. Apparently, two nights of sleep had still not managed to clear the air. She cleared her throat. "Er... you didn't have to do this, you know."

"We figured it was about time we started pitching in with breakfast," Remus offered with a shrug. "Especially considering you and Petunia did most of the cleaning up yesterday."

"Well... thanks," Lily said, and then stuffed a piece of bacon into her mouth.

She had forgotten how good food tasted when you didn't cook it yourself—or perhaps there was a certain tender, loving care with which only a teenage boy could fry a pound of bacon. Either way, it was delicious.

The boys joined her at the table with their own heaping plates, and at around nine o'clock, Petunia wandered into the kitchen wearing jogging shorts and a tank top, guzzling down water from her hot pink bottle and breathing audibly.

Sirius raised a hand in front of his eyes and grimaced. "You're ruining the taste of my bacon," he griped. "Go be all health-conscious somewhere else, Twiggie."

Petunia swivelled her head mid-sip, swallowed, and set her water bottle down on the countertop. "Mock me all you want, Black," she said. "Your opinion means less than nothing to me."

"Don't mind him, he's just bitter," Remus supplied, meriting him a sharp glare from the Marauder in question. "Being cooped up inside is doing horrors for his marathon training regime."

Sirius sighed. "Shut it, Moony."

"You're a runner?" Lily asked interestedly.

"Was." He poked moodily at his breakfast. "Reckon I'd be lucky to get through a couple of kilometres now, what with the lack of training."

Lily shrugged. "We havegot a treadmill in the basement, you know."

"A Revolving Apparatus of Boredom?" Sirius deadpanned. "Brilliant. And while I'm at it, I'll paddle around in the bathtub for a bit and then say I've gone for a swim."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning," Petunia remarked in an undertone.

Sirius did not miss her comment. He stiffened as his eyes slid to her bony back. "Actually, I was just _fine _until you arrived," he growled.

"Funny, so was I before you invited yourself in for the summer," said Petunia. Her glare faltered as she realized her insinuation, and she hurriedly amended: "Of course, the only thing I regret is that _you_ had to tag along. James knows I'm quite happy to have him here." She batted her eyelashes so quickly that it must have felt like a seizure from her point of view.

James lifted one corner of his mouth half-heartedly. "Er, thanks." He coughed. "But you know, we're kind of a package deal. There's a fat chance we'd ever end up in a shithole barn, no offense or anything, if Padfoot hadn't had something to do with it."

Sirius snorted."I think what my mate here means to say is—to quote the goddesses of British pop—" he leaned into the centre of the table and spoke very matter-of-factly now "—_if you want to be my lover, you've got to get with my friends_."

Peter stood abruptly on his chair and picked up the chorus. "_Make it last forever, friendship never ends!"_

"Get down, you git," Remus good-naturedly chided, although nearly the whole table was laughing.

"Come on, Moony," said James with a wink. "You just want to end this before we get to your part."

Remus chuckled and shook his head.

"Do we even want to know?" said Lily, sharing a baffled look with Petunia.

Sirius stood immediately. "Yes, you do. Moony, where's the camera? Haven't we got this on tape somewhere?"

"Oh god..." Remus put a hand to his head. "Why you're so proud of that performance is completely beyond me."

"Sorry for your comprehension failure, mate. Seriously, where is it?"

"Somewhere in the basement. C'mon, let's get the dishes done first and _then _we'll have time to embarrass ourselves into the next century." He stood up and grabbed his plate, along with some nearby knives and forks.

Lily made to follow suit, but Remus wouldn't have it. He pulled her plate from her hands, stacking it on top of his own. "No," he said. "You've done way more than your share. Let us do the washing up today."

Lily considered for a millisecond. "Well I can't exactly argue with that."

"You lot enjoy," Sirius said, moving rapidly in the direction of the basement staircase. "I'll just be looking for the camera. Let me know if you need any help." And with that, his footsteps could be heard galloping down the creaky wooden stairs.

"Git," James muttered. Then, he raised his voice to a panic-stricken volume. "Sirius! Come back! We're in desperate need of your help!"

"How are we supposed to load the dishwasher without a fourth person?" Remus chimed in.

When there was no response, Peter crossed his arms and shouted: "Get up here, you idiot!"

Nothing. Eye rolls were exchanged all around, and then there was a very delayed reply from downstairs. "_Sorry guys, very important mission here. Can't exactly leave. You'll have to go on without me._"

"You're a prick!" James yelled back.

Resigned to their bandmate's negligence, the remaining Marauders set about clearing the table. Lily took this as her leave. When she reached the top of the stairs, she turned right and headed for her bedroom without specific intentions. However, she stopped in her tracks when she heard Petunia call her name from the hot pink void.

Wait, what?

Lily paused, glanced around for hidden cameras, and started uneasily toward the half-open door on her left. Petunia was at her desk, stationed behind Dudley. She looked up when Lily's silhouette appeared in the doorway.

"You called?" said Lily, tentatively nudging the door open.

"Yes," said Petunia. She stood up and moved toward the foot of her bed. "You can come in, you know."

Lily stepped hesitantly inside. This was, after all, a mostly unprecedented occurrence. The last time she had been in Petunia's bedroom without motives of anger or property destruction, she had been thirteen years old and operating under Teresa's orders to deliver a bowl of soup.

"For heaven's sake, I'm not going to gas you," said Petunia when she noticed the proximity Lily maintained to the doorway. "Come here, I need to show you something." And then, miracle of all miracles, she patted the folded quilt on her bed for Lily to sit.

Lily did so, instinctively bracing herself as she did for "Gross, you probably sat on the bus in those exact same pants!" which, thankfully, did not arrive. Petunia just turned around and opened her closet.

"So, er, what's going on?" Lily asked awkwardly. She would have liked to be more direct but didn't want to jinx anything at this stage, so she held back.

"I wanted to ask your opinion on something," said Petunia as she returned from the closet with two tops on hangers. "Which do you think James would like best?"

Lily was flabbergasted. "You're asking me for fashion advice?"

"Not _fashion_," Petunia scoffed, eyeing Lily's faded _Greenpeace_ t-shirt and frayed shorts. The cynical gesture was almost comforting. "I just want to impress James. Green or black?" She held the tops up side by side for Lily's appraisal.

The sea green halter top and black ruffled singlet were so far out of Petunia's usual pastel palette that Lily could hardly picture either of them on her. However, she answered honestly: "Black looks nice."

Petunia held the garment against her narrow frame, nodding as she turned to the mirrored closet door. "I thought so as well." Their eyes met in the reflection and they both looked away, sharing a moment of awkwardness as they realized they had just agreed on something.

Petunia cleared her throat. "I've had this thing stowed away for ages because the colour is absolutely garish," she said. "But I've decided it's time for a new look. A bigger and bolder Petunia, I say." She cocked a hip. "Well, without the 'bigger' part."

Lily laughed. "You know, um, the clothes you normally wear are fine," she said. "Besides, don't all your sappy magazines warn you against 'changing yourself for a man' or something along those lines? Not that I've read those or anything."

Petunia sighed wistfully and draped the tops over her computer chair. "Then tell me," she practically begged, turning to Lily. "What _can_ I do?"

"What are you asking me for? You know I'm terrible at all this."

"Because, Lily! He likes you, so obviously you're doing _something_ right."

The words rang through the room, and Lily blinked. "The only thing I'm doing 'right'," she said, framing the word in dubious quotations, "is doing nothing at all. I don't _want _him to fancy me."

Petunia's face fell a little. She bit her lip, examining the two shirts now hanging on the back of her chair.

"...But," Lily added hastily, "Maybe that's what it is. Maybe James is into the whole... thrill of the chase thing. Blokes seem to go for the girls they know they can't get, right?"

"That's _it_." Petunia clasped her hands together, eyes lighting up with inspiration. "I'll play hard to get! I think there was an article in last month's Quibla about this..." And suddenly, she was flinging open her meticulously organized closet again and extracting a purple plastic box labelled 'Magazines'. "Ah, here it is," she announced, pulling out a glossy edition of Quibla. "_Treat them Mean; Keep them Keen_." Her eyes skimmed over the pages eagerly. "And it's by Rita Skeeter, too. She's an absolute genius with this sort of stuff."

Lily allowed her to read for a minute, sitting awkwardly on the bed as her sister's hungry eyes drank up all of Rita Skeeter's "Tips and Tricks".

Finally, Petunia lowered the magazine. "What do you think? Do you suppose it'll work?"

"Er, I guess it's worth a try," Lily reasoned. "But don't take it too far. I'd say just, well..." She tried to find the kindest way to phrase her advice, "...tone things down a little. If you can."

"Yes." Petunia nodded. She looked determined and happy. "Yes, I'll start being a bit more subtle. Coy, even."

"Brilliant," Lily said. "Well then, good luck." She stood up and made to leave.

Behind her, Petunia was already taking the magazine to her desk and using a highlighter to pick out important pieces of information. "Thanks, Lily," she said distractedly as she traced a pink heart around the entire article.

It was enough to make Lily stop momentarily in her tracks. She escaped to the hallway, wondering all the while if she had indeed slipped into some parallel universe. The Marauders downstairs doing the dishes, Petunia making a genuine effort to get along, _thanking _her... it was like a very demented episode of The Twilight Zone.

As she wandered into her room dazedly, a pair of green eyes shone in the shadows from the other end of the hallway. There was a blur of movement, and Harry slunk out of the darkness, padding down the stairs.

* * *

"Success!" Sirius' shout echoed from the lower story. The basement door slammed shut behind him. "I have located the video camera."

"Nice work, mate," James deadpanned. "So glad it took you the _exact_ amount of time it took us to finish the washing up."

Lily, who had been on her way down the stairs at this point, continued into the kitchen and came upon all four boys scattered around the linoleum area. Peter was placing the frying pan back into the cupboard while Remus loaded up the dishwasher with detergent. James, meanwhile, had a tea towel draped over his arm as he stared darkly at his best mate.

"Weird, right?" Sirius said, using his thumb to turn the camera on. "Oy, Lulu," He flicked his eyes over to Lily's stationary figure, "D'you mind if we plug this into the telly?"

The Marauders all spun to face Lily then, notified of her presence in the kitchen. She raised her eyebrows and was about to respond when a tiny 'Ahem' sounded from the doorway.

There was silence.

To say she looked like a different person would have been a tad extreme, but the Petunia Evans that had appeared in the doorframe was almost unrecognizable. Standing nonchalantly with a hand resting on her hip, she was clad in the top Lily had approved along with a pair of dark wash jeans—a gift from an Aunt two Christmases past that had been immediately banished because they were 'too punk-ish'. Her usual gold bracelets had been replaced by a green-beaded hemp affair and her hair was loose and unstyled (by Petunia standards, anyway) around her shoulders.

To put it plainly, she looked, well, rather Lily-ish.

There was a general accord of raised eyebrows and dubious glances among the Marauders, which Petunia seemed to take as a sign that she had quite blown them away. She smiled smugly and did a contrived little hair flip all while determinedly avoiding looking at James.

"Hello, boys," she said, and addressed them one by one; "Peter... Remus... Sirius." The muscles in her jaw twitched with effort as she met James' eye for a second, and then she pursed her lips and walked off into the sitting room.

"What the hell was that?" Sirius mouthed, looking downright disturbed.

Lily shrugged. She chanced a look at James; he actually appeared relieved, if a tad confused.

The group followed in the Anti-Petunia's tracks and arranged themselves on the sofas. Lily located the necessary cables and helped Sirius hook up his camera, then took a seat and watched the screen as he flicked through footage.

The first image to appear, rapidly rewinding, was dark and strange and seemed to contain a lot of flashing lights.

"Is that...?" Lily's voice was full of dread. Sirius released his finger from the rewind button, slack-jawed as the video began to play.

"_WOOOOOO!_" On screen, Sirius and James were positioned at the top of the basement staircase. They were sitting one behind the other on what appeared to be an upside-down ironing board. Both were using their hands to inch forward off of the landing.

"_I'm telling you,_" Remus sounded highly amused from behind the camera, "_this is not going to end well_."

Sirius hit pause.

In the sitting room, five heads whipped around to stare accusingly at the sandy-haired Marauder.

"Mate," James said warningly. "Please tell me this isn't footage from two nights ago."

"Wish I could," Remus told him, choking back laughter as he stared at the freeze frame, where James' glasses were glinting stupidly as he strained to push the board forward and Sirius' mouth was hanging wide open.

"Moony," Sirius slapped his leg, "this is _brilliant_!" Bursting with excitement, he unpaused the reel.

"_Push, Prongs. PUSH!"_

"'_M trying, 'm tryin_—_HOLY_—!_"_

The ironing board tipped forward suddenly, both boys sliding forward as it went shooting down the stairs like some bumpy, out of control rocket-toboggan. Combined on film, their screams became a crackling buzz of high-pitched sound.

And then the board became lodged on a step and the pair of them were flung off of the haphazard sled, landing in a heap on the carpet where they dissolved into drunken, snorting laughter.

On the other side of the screen, the hysterics were mirrored. All six of the viewers were in stitches from the utter ridiculousness of what they had just seen.

"What the hell is wrong with my hair?" James said, coughing as he straightened up. "It looks like some sort of demented bird's nest."

Sirius looked over. "Hate to break it to you, but that's its natural state."

"It is _not_. Is it?"

He nodded gravely. "You're going to have to deal with reality now that we no longer have the magic of Photoshop, mate."

"Remus," Lily cut in. Her tone was both accusatory and anxious. "Just how much of that night did you get on camera?"

"Well, there's quite a bit more where that came from," he admitted. "It's nothing horrible, though, I promise. Just thought it'd be a laugh. I was really, really bored."

"You're a genius, is what you are," Sirius proclaimed. He settled back on the couch cushions. "Let's watch this instead."

The rest of them didn't have a say in the matter, it seemed, and so they braced themselves for the rest of the reel. The sketch-like snippets continued in much the same manner: Sirius belting out _Dancing Queen_ to the mop in his left hand; an attempted five-person pyramid with completely illogical weight distribution; a two-second clip of Petunia flopping off the sofa. Some were longer. In one, a disastrously crooked red carpet had been installed across the room and James was strutting down its length, waving up at invisible fans.

"'_M here all week," _he shouted, taking a bow._ "Plenty o' James Punt— Pit— that is, _Potter_ to go 'round!_"

"_Over here, James! Give us a smile!_" Peter squealed, holding up a TV remote to his eye. "_Ungh_," he said when it jabbed him in the forehead.

Remus chuckled from behind the camera. While all this was going on, Petunia was nowhere to be seen. Sirius stumbled across the frame with his shirt over his head. Meanwhile, Lily was slumped against the far wall, launching Teresa's spoons one by one at James and yelling "_GEDDOFF THE STAGE, BOZO!_"

"Oh, god" was James' reaction from the sitting room. Lily put her head in her palm and very determinedly did not look at him.

The next clip featured Peter, standing on two stacked chairs, facing the wall. He had one hand on his chest and was soulfully reciting the garbled lines of a poem.

"_This I sat engulged in guessing, but no sssss… slabical espresso_

_Took the foul fried pies now burned'in my oven's core;_

_This an' more I shathiflysine, wi' m'bed a tea's reclining_

_Neither can live whi' the other surviveth, the lamp-light gloatedor,_

_But whose velvet violet servant will break free n' set out to rejoin,_

_His master, ah, nevermore!"_

Lily sat up on the couch and coughed several times, attempting to recover from her hysterics. "Blimey, I think Edgar Allen Poe just rolled over in his grave."

James and Sirius, meanwhile, were still dying. "_Finally_," James gasped. "Videographic _evidence_."

"C'mon mate, not even _you _could claim to have been sober there," Sirius agreed, wiping tears from his eyes.

Peter grunted. He was staring at the screen with an odd sort of expression on his face, almost fearful, but mostly as though he was trying very hard to work something out.

"I really think we should write these down," Sirius continued as his breathing came back to normal, "and compile them into a poetry anthology. That is some deep shit."

"Yeah," Remus snorted, "'_The tea's reclining'_. Absolutely profound, that."

"Well it makes about as much sense as real p.." Sirius trailed off as his eyes caught what was now playing on the screen. Horror began to creep over his features.

A very inebriated Petunia was staggering around, about one footstep away from collapsing onto the tequila-stained carpet, when Sirius zoomed into the frame.

"_Twiggie_," he said, sounding concerned. Just as she began to topple forward, he stuck out his arms and caught her round the middle, hoisting her body toward his and allowing her to lean deliriously on his shoulder as he rubbed her back. "_I'ss kay. Here, c'mon..._"

As the brief clip faded out, the atmosphere in the sitting room became downright painful. Petunia's eyes were bugging out of her head where she was perched at the end of the sofa. Sirius, meanwhile, was determinedly avoiding all eye contact and glaring at the television screen with such loathing it might have gone up in flames. The rest of the group stared at one another, not daring to speak.

Lily had never been so thankful to hear the doorbell ring.

Or, at least, that was her first instinct when the loud _ding dong_ bounced around the house. Very quickly, she remembered their current predicament and began to panic.

Petunia sat up ramrod straight, eyes wide and fearful. "Don't answer it," she hissed.

No one dared to breathe in the window of silence. The Marauders were frozen in a variety of equally uncomfortable looking postures as they waited and waited.

Just as Lily's breath was beginning to escape in a sigh of relief, the sound blasted again.

She turned urgently to Petunia. "D'you think it's Vernon?"

"Please no..." Her sister looked terrified at the thought.

Outside, there was a strange rustling noise, and a female voice became distinctly audible. "_I'm going round to look in the window. She can't hide from us forever..._"

Petunia gasped. "Fliss!" she exclaimed.

"Shh!" Lily said, clapping a hand over her sister's mouth. She turned frantically to the Marauders. "Get _down_!"

Just in time, the four boys ducked down behind the coffee table. Lily chucked a pillow over Peter's exposed back as a face appeared in the sitting room window. A blonde girl had her nose pressed to the glass, hands framing her forehead as she peered into the room with shrewd, heavily-lashed eyes.

"_I knew it_!" she mouthed when she caught sight of Petunia's awkward, hunched figure on the carpet. "_Petunia Evans, open up the door._"

As if to reinforce the girl's command, the doorbell rang again. Lily and Petunia exchanged a quick glance, and a second later the elder sister was rising to her feet and hurrying to the front hall.

"Who was _that_?" Sirius whispered. He was glancing appraisingly around the side of the coffee table at the girl who had just marched away from the window.

"One of Petunia's bone-headed friends," Lily said in exasperation. "_Not _the time, Black."

As quickly and quietly as possible, she ushered the Marauders through to the kitchen, keeping a lookout for anyone else who might have been snooping. When at last they were all safely out of the sitting room, Lily flung the basement door open and urged them forward.

"Don't come up until I tell you," she ordered, and then slammed the door shut.

Female voices were projecting loudly from the front hall, and Lily followed them until she was tucked behind the coat rack, a silent observer acting on pure nosiness.

"Would you like to explain where you've been all summer?" said one high-pitched, indignant voice.

"We've been worried sick about you!" another chimed in.

"And what are you _wearing_? Is this what happens when we leave you alone for a couple of weeks? Honestly..."

There were footsteps and the sound of the door closing. A moment later, the whole brigade had barged into the kitchen and Lily had hurriedly thrown herself into a chair to avoid being caught snooping. She looked up and saw them enter: Felicity, Sophie, and Gemma, otherwise known as Petunia's airhead cronies. They were all blonde (or profusely highlighted, as in Gemma's case) and on the odd occasion she didn't immediately flee from their presence, Lily had difficulty telling them apart for their near identical wardrobe choices and their mutual commitment to being as obnoxious as humanly possible.

Felicity entered first, with her long platinum ponytail, snotty expression and upturned nose. She made a sort of growly noise when she caught sight of Lily, who simply ignored her. All three girls carried armfuls of magazines, make-up cases, curling irons and the like, and had the look of being on a very important mission. Petunia stumbled along being them. She looked entirely out of place with her rebel-chic getup and panicky expression.

Felicity stopped abruptly and about-faced; the others followed suit.

"Well, Petty?" she demanded. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Under less tense circumstances, Lily would have been hard-pressed to keep from laughing. She had always thought their nickname for Petunia rather fitting, and certainly no less ridiculous than the others; individually they went by Fliss, Soapy, and Gem-Gem, and together the four of them made up the Charismatic Quartet. It was all rather sickening.

Petunia was at a complete loss for words. She kept opening her mouth and glancing questioningly at Lily, who was equally bewildered. All Lily could do was look meaningfully at the basement door and shake her head.

"Did somebody cut out your tongue?" said Sophie, not entirely joking. She grasped Petunia's arms and said: "Speak to us, Petty!"

There was a tiny cough as Petunia seemed to come back to life. "I've been a bit sick, is all," she said weakly. "Not _anymore_," she clarified when Sophie dropped her forearms and took a huge step back. "I couldn't leave the house, and all my clothes were contaminated so I've had to borrow some of Lily's."

Felicity folded her arms, eyeing Petunia shrewdly. "Well why didn't you _call _us then? Or at least reply to our texts? You haven't been on Facebook in almost _five days_. We thought you'd _died_!"

Lily stifled a snort which did not go unnoticed. Four blonde heads swivelled to face her, three of them wearing expressions that indicated she was not taking this seriously enough. Fortunately, the Triple Death Glare was such a common experience for Lily that she had all but become immune. Petunia had trained her cronies from a very young age to treat her sister as though she was stupid, inherently evil, and to blame for every single thing that went wrong.

And so the younger girl simply rolled her eyes in response. Felicity sniffed and turned her attention back to Petunia. "You missed Tim's party," she said shortly.

"Yeah." Gemma adopted Felicity's cross-armed stance. "_And _sushi nigh—"

"He was asking after you," Felicity carried on. "Tim." She raised her eyebrows meaningfully at Petunia. "And then I had to tell him you were totally awol. Do you know who he hooked up with at the end of the night, Petty? Gina Hathwell. _Gina Hathwell_."

There was a long silence, and then Petunia said: "Oh."

"That's all you have to say? You've been arse over elbow for the bloke since about year five."

"Shh!" Petunia's eyes shot toward the basement door. "Keep your voice down, Fliss, please."

Felicity followed her gaze, looking perturbed. Beside her, Sophie and Gemma exchanged worried glances.

"Alright," Sophie announced, "Clearly, you've been locked up inside for far too long, my dear. Consider this an intervention." She turned to the pile of things that had been left on the table and began rummaging through them. "We've got the latest Vogue, Cosmo _and _SHAPE, as well as makeover and mani-pedi supplies, and a little Bruno Mars." She extracted the CD from one of the pleather cases and waved it enthusiastically. "Also, yoghurt-covered raisins and this ginger and peach tea that's quite excellent. Gem-Gem, would you mind?" She handed the tin of tea bags over to Gemma, who took it immediately and headed for the kettle.

"It's all right," Petunia protested timidly, her eyes drawn like magnets to the basement door. "Really, girls, I'm fine— it's not necessary..."

Fliss just fixed her with a threatening look. "So you're going to send us away after all the trouble we went to for you?" Her pale eyes were like ice, and it was clear that Petunia was trying hard not to be guilted. The other girls glanced nervously between their two friends as Petunia stared back resolutely, then tilted her chin up and smiled.

"Of course not. It's just, you didn't have to go to all this trouble." She paused. "But I suppose I could use a little girl time."

"Excellent," said Sophie. "Shall we go to your room then?"

"Hopefully she's not hiding any dirty secrets up there," said Fliss, smirking.

Petunia giggled. "That's ridiculous," she said, still looking toward the basement.

"Good, let's head up then," said Felicity. "Soapy, bring the beautification equipment. Gem-Gem, you can join us when the tea's ready."

Gemma nodded and beamed enthusiastically at her friends as they gathered their things and drifted out of the kitchen. It was partly out of pity, but mostly because she wanted the coast clear before one of the Marauders did something stupid, that Lily stood and walked over to the counter.

"It's fine—I'll do it," she said, reaching to pull a tea tray out of the lower cupboard.

Gemma regarded Lily as if she were a nasty stain on the linoleum. "Whatever, freak," she spat before skipping off.

As soon as she was gone, Lily tiptoed to the basement door and opened it partway. "Pssst! It's Lily!" she called. Remus' expectant face poked around the corner. "No good," she hissed. "It's Petunia's posse—I expect they'll be here a couple of hours at least."

James' face made an appearance just above his bandmate's. "Good, I'll come up—I've got some dirty socks I wouldn't mind stuffing in their faces." He grinned, and it occurred to Lily that the Marauders had probably heard most of the previous conversation. She tried not to smile.

"Oi, can you get me that Fliss girl's number?" said Sirius, joining them.

"I'd like Gem-Gem's!" Peter chimed in. "She sounds really hot!"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Keep yourselves occupied and _don't_ come up here," she said, and closed the door on them.

When the kettle had finished, Lily brewed the tea and arranged the necessities on the tray. She took it upstairs—deftly avoiding Harry as he scurried on down—and knocked on Petunia's door.

"Yes?" came a snotty voice that could have belonged to anyone.

Lily pushed the door open with her elbow. The Charismatic Quartet was sitting in a circle on the carpet, makeover supplies littering the central space. "Your tea," she said dully.

"On that end table's fine," Felicity snapped, not even meeting her eyes as she compared bronzer palettes against Petunia's skin tone. "Goodness, Petty, you've completely lost your colour. You look ghastly. None of these shades are going to work." In a huff, she dumped the makeup compacts onto the ground.

Petunia did not reply. Instead, she set about examining the spread of products. "You know who this one would probably suit?" she said, reaching forward and picking up one of the discarded bronzers. Her mouth twisted thoughtfully. "Lily."

The tea tray clinked and rattled as Lily dropped it onto the bedside table. She tensed, wearily preparing herself for what was likely going to be an insulting joke.

Fliss, Soapy and Gem-Gem seemed to be on the same wavelength. There was some tittering amongst them, and then Felicity said: "With that horrid ginger hair? Hah! Good one, Petty."

"No, I mean it," Petunia insisted, flicking open the lid of the case. "Lily, come here." She patted the ground beside her.

There was silence. Lily, on full alert, checked Petunia for any of the usual signs that a prank was about to go down. Surprisingly, there were none. Her sister's expression remained quite earnest.

The blonde henchmen seemed just as confused as Lily. They kept looking at each other, and then Petunia, and then back to each other again, apparently at a loss as to how to respond.

"Come on," Petunia repeated.

Despite her self-preservation instincts, and to the great surprise of Petunia's friends, Lily took a seat and allowed Petunia to dust a bit of the powder onto her cheekbones. She sat stiffly, aware that at any moment, they might burst into laughter and start chucking eggs at her or something.

"See?" Petunia said, leaning back to admire her work.

The most she got from anyone in the way of a reaction was the bewildered grimace that had contorted Gemma's face.

"Hair time," Fliss said bluntly.

Taking this as her leave (or rather, escape) Lily made to get to her feet but was stopped by Petunia. "Don't be silly," she said with some obvious difficulty; "you should stay."

The others gasped. "Petty!" Fliss exclaimed, outraged.

Petunia shrugged in a sort of apology. "Mum's ordered us to keep each other entertained." She glanced briefly at Lily, whose face did not betray the confusion she felt. "Besides, we can use her as a makeover case."

"Yeah, _extreme_ makeover," Gemma sneered, emphasizing her overbite. She was largely ignored.

"I suppose it could be fun...," Sophie said.

"All right," snapped Fliss. She gave Lily a cold look but did not speak to her. "We'll just have to make sure we use all of _your_ brushes on her, Petty."

And so Lily found herself participating in the most sickeningly feminine gathering she'd ever experienced, being operated on by three blonde buffoons who hated her on principle and one who—well, she just wasn't sure what to think anymore.

* * *

When the door was shut and bolted, and they had watched through the lace curtains while the over-glammed trio drove off in Felicity's car, Lily and Petunia turned and sighed simultaneously. Petunia's promise to update her Facebook at least three times per day and join them on their next mall spree had the Quartet satisfied enough to leave after a near three-hour visit.

There was definitely some residual awkwardness after Petunia's efforts to include her in the pampering session, but it was vastly overshadowed by relief. Despite the ridiculous updo on her head and the _Tantalizing Tangerine_ on her chewed-down nails, Lily found herself eager to return to what had become normal life. Without saying anything, she and Petunia headed straight for the basement.

"Bloody _hell_," Sirius said upon seeing them. "What _happened _to you two?"

"Don't even ask," Lily replied as she clawed about fifty bobby pins out of her hair. "What have you lot been up to?"

"Eavesdropping, mostly," Sirius replied. "Did you know your registers have almost perfect sound transmission? It's quite phenomenal."

"Lovely," Petunia growled. "Did you know you're pathetic?"

Lily didn't bother to point out the utter hypocrisy in this.

Sirius, meanwhile, seemed to be itching to carry on. "The _Charismatic Quartet_?" he goaded, raising an eyebrow at Petunia. "And you all have nicknames. Funny, I wonder where you got the idea?"

"For your information," Petunia spat, "we've had those names since kindergarten."

"Actually, that explains a lot, _Petty_."

Again, were Lily in her usual frame of mind concerning her sister, she might have informed Sirius that he hadn't been far off in his accusations. Petunia had become quite obsessed with the similarities between her group and the Marauders a couple of years ago, culminating in an attempt to turn her precious foursome into a band. Needless to say, it had been the flop of the century.

"So did you get Gem-Gem's number for me?" Peter asked from the sofa, looking hopeful.

"Er, sorry. I forgot."

"Just as well," said Sirius. "Their attractiveness decreased every time they opened their mouths. Good god. Please tell me _your_ mates aren't such bloody dimwits, Lulu."

This was the part where Petunia was supposed to snidely say: "Lily doesn't _have _any mates", but the line never came.

Lily did have mates, obviously. She had just never been one to stick with an exclusive collection of 'BFFs' as Petunia had always done.

Well, to be honest, that wasn't entirely true. Lily _had _had a best friend for several years—a quiet boy who'd lived on the outskirts of town—but in the end the relationship had been destructive. Bob and Teresa had never warmed to their friendship, and when Sev had become tangled up in the nasty web that was drug addiction, she had finally been forced to let go. He and his family had moved away two summers ago, and she hadn't heard from him since. Of course, Lily had maintained several casual friends in the wake of his departure thanks to her generally sociable nature, but there was nobody who would come knocking on the door just because she hadn't updated her Facebook in a few days. This, she reminded herself, was probably a good thing.

"Er, where's James?" said Petunia with a dismal attempt at nonchalance. She twirled a silky, shimmery ringlet around one finger, looking eagerly around the room. Lily, too, had not failed to notice the absence of the messy-haired Marauder.

"Just in the other room." Remus indicated the half-open bifold door on the far wall. Behind it was a tiny, cluttered room that doubled as a sewing space and an ill-equipped workshop, and which the Evanses rarely used for anything except its ultra-powerful lighting.

"What's he doing in there?" Lily asked.

"Being a humongous dorkface, I presume," said Sirius. "Said something about research before."

"We should check in on him," said Petunia. She started determinedly toward the door but then stopped, reconsidered, and dragged Lily forward by the arm. "Go on," she said. It wasn't difficult to read her motives.

Although momentarily annoyed, Lily wasn't bothered enough to argue, and besides, she was curious as to this strange behaviour of James'. She stepped over the sleeping bags and knocked twice on the door frame before entering.

James looked up. He was seated at the small folding table in the centre of the room, poring over a sea of papers.

"What the hell—" Lily suddenly recognized the red folder underneath all the white: her research project on DeMort. "Hey! I thought you said that wasn't any help."

James regarded her over his glasses, looking amused. "It still isn't, really. No offense."

Lily expelled an indignant snort. "Then why have you got its guts spread all over the sewing table?"

"I thought I might give it another look, see if there was something we missed. You know, for the sake of being at least a little bit productive."

"And?"

"And... I've got to hand it to you—you've managed to find about the shoddiest information ever on Val DeMort."

"Well, that's not very nice," said Petunia, who was hovering anxiously at Lily's elbow. It came out sounding so forced and awkward that the others just ignored it out of respect.

Lily was, in fact, somewhat offended, but tried not to let it show. She folded her arms. "Shoddy how, exactly?"

James retrieved a stapled bundle and made a face at it. "Well, for one thing, you've got his tattoo totally wrong. It doesn't look anything like this."

Narrowing her eyes, Lily snatched the booklet from him and studied the diagram she'd included of a skull and a twisted serpent. "No, that's the Dark Mark," she said. "He has one and so do all of his followers. It's like the creepiest and most basic piece of DeMort trivia out there."

"I've _seen_ it in person, Lily, and I promise you that's not what it looks like."

"What are we quarrelling about in here?" Sirius cut in. He and the other Marauders had just appeared in the doorway.

"You remember Val's tattoo, don't you?" James appealed. "The one on his arm?"

"Sure," Sirius replied. "Christ on the cross, right?"

James made a face. "What? No. Wormtail, you've seen it properly, yeah?"

Peter blinked, hands curled up inside the sleeves of his jacket. "Er... yes. I suppose." It took expectant stares from everyone present for him to finally mumble: "I always thought it was an angel."

"Please." Remus, who had been shaking his head, stepped fully into the room. "Val's an Atheist. You're both mental."

"_Thank you_," breathed James.

Remus nodded. "I think Prongs will agree that it's clearly a mattock."

This, apparently, was not the case. "What the _hell _is a mattock?" James demanded.

"Sort of like a pickaxe," Remus explained. "Only more sort of... stout. Half of the blade is an axe and the other is an adze—"

"Adze?" Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Moony, how do you knowthese things?"

James stood up then, keeping his hands splayed on the table, and burst out: "How is it that _none _of you lot know what his tattoo actually is?"

"I _do_!" Sirius insisted. "It's definitely the crucifixion thing."

"Val isn't even religious, Sirius. That makes no sense whatsoever."

"Anyway," Remus cut in. "He doesn't exactly have it out on display, does he? The closest look I've ever gotten was across a table when his sleeve came up."

"True," James said. "But I've seen it up close. Once."

"Well then O Enlightened One," Sirius drawled. "Would you care to share your infinite wisdom with us?"

James looked at each of them in exasperation, seeming almost reluctant to share his theory for fear that it, too, would be completely rejected. "It's a bird," he finally said. "A dark one, like a raven. Only it's got something in its claws and... well, I'm pretty sure it's a person."

The suggestion hung in the air for a moment. Then Remus shook his head.

"Again, that just doesn't _work_. I mean, this is Valentino DeMort—if he's going to have a tattoo it's going to be a symbol of brute strength mixed with cunning. The mattock is really the only thing that makes sense."

"Does it have to make sense?" Sirius argued. "He probably got the bloody thing on some drunken escapade—"

"_None_ of this makes sense," Lily cut in, shaking her head. "I just— how do you lot not know about the Dark Mark? It's on every single site I researched from—"

"Yes, but I think we can safely conclude all of your sources were conspiracists," said James. "One of your articles referred to him as 'Darth Valdermort.'"

"So? They got their information from somewhere."

Remus interrupted: "Sorry, Lily, but I think James is right about one thing—there's a lot of made-up hoopla about Val out there. On the other hand, I'm still quite convinced it's a mattock."

"Seriously, mate," said Sirius, "_that_ sounds like made-up hoopla."

"Well, it's definitely not a crucifix."

"Why does it even matter?" said Peter suddenly. Leaning against the walls in one corner of the room, he looked altogether bored with the situation, albeit a tad on edge. The others just looked at him as if he'd asked the wrong question.

"Well we need to know now, don't we?" said James.

"I could go get Dudley," came Petunia's voice from behind the irate masses.

"Yes," said James approvingly, slapping the table. "That is an excellent idea, Petunia."

Lily couldn't see Petunia's face, but she could fairly well imagine the manic smile creeping up on it. She did a giddy little hop, and her blonde head bounced out of the room.

The atmosphere remained strangely tense and quiet until she returned and stationed herself beside James at the table, placing Dudley amidst the scattered papers and bending over to type in her login details. The others crowded around behind them.

"So," said Petunia as Google popped up. "What do I search?"

James opened his mouth to reply, but Lily cut him off. "The Dark Mark," she said. "Put Val's name in there, too. I'll _show _you what I mean."

James turned around in his seat. He and Lily shared a long, silent stare that was difficult to describe; competitive, angry and awkward all at once. Lily felt her skin prickle and forced her eyes away from his face.

Petunia, who was oblivious to all this, began typing. "How about '_Does Valentino DeMort have the Dar...'_" Her fingers stiffened suddenly when the list of recently searched items appeared and the first option was '_Does water have calories?_'. Blushing, she furiously sped up her typing to bypass the search history while the others awkwardly pretended not to notice.

The results appeared and Petunia coughed, cheeks still a bit pink.

"See?" Lily said triumphantly, leaning forward to point at the screen. "'_The Dark Mark is a tongue-in-cheek name given to the symbol commonly tattooed onto the inner wrists of supporters of Valentino DeMort. The trend began several years ago when devoted fans began to copy DeMort's own tattoo in an effort to symbolize solidarity.'_" She crossed her arms. "DeMort has the Dark Mark. Look; it says so on all of these sites."

"... It does seem to be fairly well documented," Remus admitted at length. "But I swear, that's not what it looks like. Even if it's not a mattock, it still has that sort of stretched-out cross shape."

"There's no way it's a bloody skull and snake," James agreed.

Lily's frustration only grew. "But _why _would all of these people get tattooed if they didn't have good reason to believe that Val had the same one?"

"Look here." Remus pointed to something on the screen. "It says that DeMort made the design available to the public after receiving '_thousands of requests as to the nature of his elusive tattoo_.' That sounds pretty dodgy."

Lily digested this. "So you're saying Val lied about it?"

"It's a possibility."

"Alright, give me that," James said, reaching for Dudley and pulling him sideways along the table. Petunia looked momentarily horrified, reflexively lunging to pull her beloved laptop back. She caught herself quickly, retracting her arms and feigning casualness, but still seemed to be waging an internal war of sorts.

"What are you doing?" Lily asked.

"Looking up the raven," James replied, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Lily scoffed. "What, you think you're just going to type in 'raven holding human tattoo' and Val's arm is going to show up? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever—"

"That's it." James actually sounded quite shocked. He had clicked on something from Google Images, and as the picture began to load, Lily felt a strange shiver run down her spine. "I don't believe it. That's _exactly _what it looks like."

Despite herself, Lily moved in to have a closer look. A creepy-looking raven with hollow eyes stared out from the screen. Its enormous wings were ruffled and spread out horizontally, and its talons hung below, tightly clenched around the wrists of a bare-skinned man who hung limply in its grip. Streams of blood ran down the man's body, tracing small rivers all the way to his feet.

The image was macabre in a way that was almost disturbing. Even Sirius remained silent for a few seconds as he took it in.

"That's horrific," Lily finally said.

"And you know what?" Sirius stepped back and folded his arms. "I reckon Prongs is right. I've only ever seen the bottom part in person, but it's nearly identical."

Even Remus seemed to be in agreement. "It's definitely the right shape."

"But what's this doing on the internet?" Sirius wondered.

James was already one step ahead of him. He'd clicked on the image source, bringing them to a web page that was all black and red and very outdated. A banner at the top named it "Lexicon of Occult Symbols."

"Occult symbols?" Remus sounded surprised. "That's odd. I wouldn't have thought..."

He trailed off as James scrolled down the page, glossing over a number of dark, obscure, and at times downright disturbing graphics.

The raven image ended up being right at the very bottom.

"_The Grim Seraph_," James read the caption very quietly. His brow creased as he took it upon himself to articulate the small blurb that was next to it. "_Associated with the shamanic cult group 'Sons of Salazar,' whose beliefs revolve around The Raven as the almighty being governing human life and suffering._"

A moderate pause; his words hung in the air.

"Reckon I just got chills," said Sirius. Lily could relate; she felt as though both the mood and temperature in the basement had plummeted well into the negatives.

"I still don't understand," Petunia spoke up. "What does any of this have to do with DeMort?"

"You don't think..." Remus let his implications sink in.

Looking uncomfortable, Sirius folded his arms over his chest. "C'mon," he said. "Val in a cult? That's not his style at all. I mean logically, I just can't see that ever happening."

"Yeah," James agreed. "It doesn't add up."

"But what on earth's he doing with the mark tattooed on his wrist, then?" Lily said. "If you lot are right and that's what it looks like, then it's way too specific to be a coincidence."

There was a round of fidgeting, but nobody seemed to have an answer to this. The question unnerved all of them.

"It could be...," Remus started; "it could be he knows somebody in the cult—or knew, I suppose—and he's paying tribute to them."

"Or maybe he just saw the design and thought 'Finally, a tattoo morbid enough for my creepy-arse public image'," was Sirius' suggestion.

"That's the thing, though," said James. "It isn't public. Obviously he's tried pretty hard to hide this thing from the world—if we're basically the only ones who've noticed it, and they've even got this 'Dark Mark' business circulating..."

Lily thought back to her project research. The Dark Mark had been a convincing motif due to its widespread occurrence; however, though she'd seen pictures of it inked onto flesh, she could not recall ever seeing it on Val's arm specifically. Perhaps James was right and it was simply a cover—but a cover for what exactly?

"I think we need to look into this a little more," she said, and reached for the laptop. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," said James. Petunia looked like she might cry when Dudley fell into the hands of a second dirty stranger.

Lily spent the next few seconds running a Google search on 'Sons of Salazar'. There were surprisingly few results, and the first one was the same Occult Lexicon that they had just visited. As she scrolled down the page, however, the findings seemed to be following a similar format. They were all news articles.

_Fire Tragedy in Knockturn._ She clicked on this one, feeling that strange trepidation return as she waited for the page to load.

_Ten are confirmed dead after an out-of-control blaze in the village of Knockturn this morning. Firefighters from the neighbouring town of Diagon arrived in time to protect the village's centre from flames that started in a forest reserve but quickly spread._

"_Flames everywhere," commented Horace Slughorn, a shaken townsperson. "Yes, it was really quite a fright."_

_An investigation into the victims' identities revealed that they were all closely associated with a spiritual group dubbed "Sons of Salazar." Locals say they didn't know much about the group but suspected they were engaged in frequent drug use. No traces of the group remain, though it is unclear how many members there were originally._

"_Queer sort of folk," said Slughorn. "Never had much to do with the town. Always off in their forest huts or what have you, dancing round fires and singing their dreadful songs. Quite frightening really—might even say we're all safer after the fact…"_

_Police continue their inquiry into the nature of the fire but with little hope of gleaning any more evidence after such extensive destruction._

That was all there was to it—no picture and not a single comment down below. Just this short cluster of text glaring out from a bright, white background. Despite its evident calamity, the whole thing seemed impossibly small.

Lily waited for the others to finish reading over her shoulder. The reactions were varied: Petunia took a sizeable step back and wrapped her arms around her middle; Sirius said "bloody hell" and James exhaled in a short whistle.

"Spooky," said Remus, "but still, what can it possibly have to do with Val? If he'd been involved, we'd know for sure. It'd be all over this page and everywhere else."

"When's it dated?" James asked suddenly.

Lily traced under the heading with one finger. "August 15th, 2003."

"Ah," said Remus. "See, there were at least fifty Val-Marts open by then."

"Wait, though," said Lily, noticing something else at the bottom. It was written, very faintly, in italic script. "_Our records have been transferred online over the course of 2003. This article was originally printed July 25th, 1987._"

"And that would make Val..."

"A young whippersnapper in his twenties," said James.

"Before people really knew anything about him," said Lily, starting to put the pieces together.

"No. No, this is ridiculous," Remus cut in. "Think about it, guys. We aren't just going to uncover some deep, dark history of Val's after five minutes of Google-searching."

"Says who?" James challenged. "Moony, think about it. That tattoo is one of a kind. Why would he have it if he wasn't associated in some way with these Sons of Salazar people?"

"Yeah, mate, but we _know _Val," Sirius reminded him. "Can you really imagine him buying into any of that rubbish? It'd be like... I dunno... finding out that Pete had a secret past as a ballet dancer or something."

At the mention of his name, Peter shifted. "Wait," he said. "...Wouldn't Val still have been living in Russia while all this was going on?"

There was a short silence.

"Damn," James said, raising a palm to his chin. "Yeah, I forgot about that."

"Why do I feel like the more research we do, the further away we get from actually figuring anything out?" Lily said dully.

James went back to scrolling through Google. "These results are all the same article," he said. "Don't you think it's strange that ten people _died _and it hardly got any media coverage?"

"But this was years ago, remember," said Remus. "Things were different."

"Yeah, but still..." He had clicked on yet another identical article. He scrolled to the bottom. "Look here: _Article transcribed from The Daily Prophet, 1987. Full records available at the Knockturn library branch._"

"What is this, the Dark Ages?" scoffed Sirius. "Who actually uses libraries anymore?"

"I know this is stupid considering we have basically nothing to go on," Lily spoke up suddenly. Her face was clouded with thought. "But does anyone else feel like there's just something... _off._.. about this whole thing? I can't explain it, but..."

Lily was mildly surprised when it was James who answered her first, who turned to her with such unrelenting conviction and intensity that it was as though something physical passed between them. "I do," he said. "I think we ought to find out more about it."

"Now hold on, Sherlock," said Remus. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's certainly pretty intriguing, but is it really something we need to delve into?"

Lily and James looked at one another. It was strange; much of the awkwardness between them had dissipated and in that moment their individual resolve locked together. Lily knew just by looking at him that they were thinking precisely the same thing.

"That's exactly what it is," James said, turning to Remus. "Don't you see? We already said it: if we're going to get Val off our tails, we need something incriminating that could potentially take him down."

"And this is about as incriminating as it gets," Lily acknowledged, pointing at the screen.

"So maybe it's worth looking into this a little further?" Sirius said hesitantly, looking back and forth between his mates.

Remus relented. "I suppose it couldn't hurt."

"What does that mean, then?" Petunia wanted to know. She looked at James' profile as she spoke. "If we can't find anything else online, then...?"

"Then that settles it," James finally spoke. He glanced up from Dudley, and his eyes were shining from the light of the screen. "We're going to have to go straight to the source. Who's up for a little road trip?"

* * *

**A/N:** Hey guys! Gollum here. sorry bout the wait bin prity bizee taykin drugzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzz Thanks, Will. But really, we are sorry and we know you're sick of hearing it. Life has changed a lot since we started writing this story two years ago, and it's becoming harder and harder to find the time to collaborate. But we promise to finish the story no matter how long it takes us!

The good news is, we're actually using our Tumblr now so head over there between updates if you get bored.

Last thing we have to say: Alright, so we feel like this chapter was kind of a letdown in the Lames department. But just so you know, now that we've crammed all the plot development into half a chapter, you can look forward to plenty of the good stuff in the next one! ;)

Sinseerlie,

Liz and Sam

(_Seven Scribbles_)

P.S. Sometime in the near future, we plan to combine the two halves of Chapter Eight into one chapter so that it matches up with our original plan. So if you get another notification for "Chapter Ten" later on, it means there is actually a new chapter! Sorry for the confusion, but it's just going to bother us otherwise. :P


	11. Star Hopping

**Disclaimer:** We like soup. We do not, however, like taking credit for other people's work. Is this a pathetic excuse for a disclaimer or what? You'd better be used to it by now.

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

Star Hopping

* * *

The sun had barely risen. Half-light crossed the glassy panes of the kitchen windows, coating the countertops and tables in a shadowy cloak beneath the glow of the synthetic ceiling lamps. Lily, who had her bag propped on the counter, was clad in jeans, a tank top and running shoes. James was mirroring her from across the granite benchtop, dressed in a similarly practical outfit with Bob's old hiking pack spread out in front of him. Two travel mugs of coffee bridged the gap between their bags. Meanwhile, Remus, Sirius, and Peter were all lounged about, a portrait of pyjamas, bedhead and general dishevelment.

"You know," Lily said, eyeing her backpack wryly as she pulled the zipper shut across its contents, "this really isn't the trip I thought I'd be going on this summer."

"But isn't this so much better?" Sirius replied. He was munching corn flakes straight out of the box, feet resting brazenly on the kitchen table. "Who needs a lake

house when you've got the Knockturn Public Library?"

There was a squeak of running shoes on linoleum, and suddenly Petunia rounded into the kitchen. She had on cargo pants and a dark jacket and was touting a floral rucksack that appeared to be stuffed to the brim.

Everyone stared.

"What's that for?" Lily asked with trepidation, nodding toward the bulging accessory that was dwarfing Petunia's figure. She was fairly sure she knew the answer already.

"I was doing a bit of thinking," Petunia said, clearly trying to pass for casual as she swung into a bar stool, "and I decided that maybe I should come along after all." In her haste to explain, she sounded like an elementary school student nervously rushing through a stack of cue cards. "It's just that if one of you is driving and one's navigating, then who's going to keep an eye out for the paparazzi? They could be anywhere. Not to mention there's that tricky lock in the truck that only I can work... Of course, it's not that I really _want _to go or anything, but just to be safe..."

The outburst came as a surprise to nobody. Lily, for one, had been predicting this moment ever since Petunia had suggested that she take the coveted second road trip spot in her stead last night. She had to give her sister credit; the 'hard to get' charade was lasting much longer than she had initially thought possible. It was clear, however, that the whole thing was beginning to wear thin.

"Petunia," Lily reminded her. "One of us needs to be here, remember? We can't just leave these three in the house." She waved a hand at Sirius, Remus and Peter. "What if Mum and Dad call?"

"Well it's not as though any of them would actually pick up the phone," Petunia said. "We can just call back later. I'll tell Mum we were at Tesco or something."

"For two days? Yes, that's entirely plausible."

"Well, we could..."

Lily shook her head. "Look, if you want to go, that's fine. Take my rucksack and I'll stay here. I honestly don't care."

James shot her a sharp look, but she ignored it.

"No," Petunia said, seemingly with great difficulty. "No, that's alright. I'll stay. There's no real reason for me to go instead of you..." Her eyes remained glued to James. She bit her lip. "Or, well, maybe we should just _all_ go."

"Twiggie," Sirius barked. He removed his legs from the table and swung forward, depositing the cereal box in front of him. "Come off it, alright? Longs are going. End of story."

"Yes, I know," Petunia snapped. "I just figured it wouldn't hurt if someone else was prepared as a back-up, just in case."

Nobody spoke for several seconds. There was a pitter-patter of footsteps as Harry's lithe silhouette leaped onto the counter to sniff Lily's bag. It was a testament to Petunia's current state that she did not so much as lift a finger in protest.

Lily patted the cat absently. "I suppose we should make sure we're not forgetting anything," she said. "Remus, do you have the checklist?"

He pulled it out of his pocket with a silent nod, smoothing out the creases in the paper. "Directions?" he began, looking questioningly at Lily and James.

"Got 'em," James confirmed, picking up the Google Maps print-offs that Petunia had put together last night.

"Enough petrol?"

"To start off with, anyway," Lily said. "I imagine we'll be stopping a few times to refill."

"How long of a drive is it, again?" Peter wanted to know.

With a grim expression, James replied: "Ten hours, give or take."

"Do you have spare clothes?" Remus continued. "Money? Water? A phone?"

"Yes, yes, yes and yes," Lily confirmed. "Is that all?"

"All that seems applicable, anyway," said Remus. He made a face. "Who wrote 'pudding'?"

In response, the cuckoo clock by the pantry burst open to chirp out the arrival of six o'clock. Harry jumped off of the counter and Petunia scooted backwards in her chair, and the flurry of noise and movement seemed to announce that it was time for them to get going. Lily picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulders.

"Right," James said as he did the same. "I guess we're off." He avoided Lily's eyes as he said this. The two of them had been dancing around the issue of their impending companionship since the previous night, and now that the moment had arrived, Lily felt a strange nervousness begin to crawl over her skin.

"Remember," Remus reminded them as they made their way toward the front door, "don't do anything rash." He was looking mainly at James. "All we really need is information at this stage. Just stay low and try not to draw attention to yourselves."

James dropped his brows into a dispassionate stare. "But I had this grand entrance planned," he shot back sarcastically. "It involved fireworks and glitter and a horse and carriage and now I'm very disappointed."

"Oh, shut up."

On the outskirts of the gathering, Petunia was twisting her newly acquired hemp bracelet around her wrist so quickly that a small patch of rope burn was forming. Lily caught her eye.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Petunia asked with some hesitance.

Lily couldn't tell if this was a show of concern or simply another attempt to delay James' departure. Strangely, she suspected that it was a mixture of both.

"We'll be fine," she replied, not unkindly.

"Remember," Petunia added, "two clicks to open the passenger door and sometimes you have to smack the lock to get it to open."

"Got it. And you'll be fine babysitting this lot?"

Petunia's lip curled as her eyes slid toward Sirius. "_Some _of them are not exactly the most pleasant of company," she said, "but I suppose I'll manage."

Sirius barely lifted a brow. "The feeling is mutual, Petty, believe me."

"Would you _please _stop calling me that."

"Anyway," Lily said abruptly. "You'll probably need to get milk either today or tomorrow. And maybe bread. And make sure Mum and Dad's room stays off-limits, yeah?"

"Of course." Petunia turned her attention away from Sirius and there was a long pause. The elder girl seemed to be struggling to say something as she stared into her sister's eyes. "Be careful," she finally managed. "And good luck."

Lily nodded, and the tiniest hint of a smile graced her mouth. "You too."

"Oi, by they way, I'm expecting a souvenir," Sirius said.

James, who had his hand on the doorknob, turned around and snorted. "Right. Would you like a library book or a relic from the cult of death?"

"I think the answer to that one is fairly obvious," Remus observed dryly.

"Right," said James. "Toenail necklace it is then, you illiterate bugger."

"Fantastic. Have fun, you two." This, naturally, was punctuated with a wink.

"Stay safe," said Remus.

"If you know what I mean."

"Honestly, Padfoot..."

"Alright, going now," said James, pulling open the door. Reddish sunlight beamed in, making them both squint.

"Remember not to let anyone in," Lily tossed back as a final bit of advice. "And please, please don't burn the house down."

Lily barely heard the tittering chorus of "Yes, Mum"'s and "Well, _obviously_"'s as the door clicked shut behind her. And then it was just her and James, alone on the porch, suddenly and tremendously aware of what lay ahead.

The sunrise was just beginning to peek over the cheerful slopes of the roofs, and the two of them were casting long, awkward shadows onto the white clapboard behind them. As though suddenly aware of her stiff posture, Lily reached up to hook her fingers under the straps of her backpack. James stuck his hands into his pockets and turned his gaze towards the pickup truck that was parked in the driveway.

"Shall we?" he said.

Lily only managed a nod. Something about this situation was throwing her completely off-kilter.

The two of them loaded their packs into the truck in silence, and once the passenger door had successfully been wrestled open (a joint effort), they clicked their seatbelts into place, and Lily brought the grizzly-esque engine to life. She backed out without a word; only once they had turned onto the main road did she clear her throat and speak.

"Do you have the map?"

"Right. Yes," said James. He seemed somewhat flustered as he twisted around to retrieve his pack. "Sorry, should've got that out before."

"It's alright," Lily assured him, glancing in the rearview mirror before changing lanes. "We probably won't need it until we get closer anyway."

"Good point." James tossed the map onto the dashboard and stowed his pack away once more. "You know the roads round here pretty well I guess?"

"Decently. I mean, it's fairly simple once you get on the freeways."

"Right."

The silence was practically suffocating after that. As they cruised down Main Street and bypassed the heart of Gryffindale in all of about three seconds, Lily was focused more intently on the road than need be and James was looking out the window, tapping his fingers on the leather in what was most likely an endeavour to seem relaxed. This was hardly successful. Lily kept sneaking glances at him out of the corner of her eye, and when their gazes occasionally met, they drew back immediately and resumed their individual fixations.

Things were more awkward now than ever, and Lily wasn't entirely sure why. It wasn't the first time they'd been alone together; there had been that revelatory heart-to-heart as they'd washed dishes side by side, and then the night when— Oh, yes. It was that night hanging between them now like an over-pungent air freshener from the rearview mirror. It was impossible to ignore and would have to be dealt with sooner or later, but nobody wanted to make the first move. Lily thought about just biting the bullet, but she couldn't think what to say. So she kept her eyes on the road, willing the hours to pass quickly.

Fortunately, James offered a reprieve from the tension.

"Mind if I turn on the radio?" he asked (in true rockstar fashion, Lily thought) as they merged onto the freeway, heading north.

"No, go ahead," she told him. "Mind you, it's a bit fuzzy sometimes. Doesn't always get the good channels."

James leaned forward to fiddle with the buttons, and a voice crackled to life. "_And that was the Marauders, with 'Deluminate', yet _another _rebound chart topper. Album sales have absolutely skyrocketed since the legendary vanishing act—not that they needed the help to begin with. Is it all some sort of publicity stunt? Head over to our website and cast your vote at www dot—"_

James jammed his finger down on the channel button. The grainy voice gave way to a classical music interlude, and the soaring trill of flutes and violins was a comical addition to the tense atmosphere.

Lily wanted to make some sort of wisecrack, but one look at James' clenched jaw killed that notion fairly swiftly. Instead, she removed one hand from the steering wheel and switched radio stations, stopping when a recent summer hit caught her fancy.

The song was all bubblegum and sunshine, and though Lily was loathe to admit it, it was rather catchy. She had heard it enough times on Petunia's workout mix to have memorized most of the lyrics. As the sugary beat bounced around the car, and with the morning sun now blazing in the sky, it was impossible not to feel in better spirits. Within moments, she was tapping her fingers against the steering wheel and singing along quietly.

She stopped when there was a tiny expulsion of breath from the passenger seat.

"What?" Lily slid her eyes quickly to the side.

"Nothing. It's just," James laughed properly this time, "you're a _really _terrible singer."

"Gee, thanks," she said, offence written all over her face.

James shook his head. "No, no, it's strangely endearing. Carry on."

Lily looked at him as though he was insane. "Well I'm not going to _now._"

"Oh, come on," James said. He picked up the next line with gusto. "_Sweet lips in the magical sunlight_." The fluid depth of his voice contrasted humorously with the girly lead vocals, and Lily snorted despite herself. She couldn't resist adding the next line:

"_One kiss and everything's alright."_

They sang together, _"Endless summer, I'm yours tonight," _and then suddenly they were belting out the corny lyrics as the truck sped down the freeway. The impromptu duet culminated in lots of air guitar on James' part and some vocal riffs from Lily.

James reached behind his glasses to wipe tears from his eyes. "Oh my god," he said. "I'm sorry, I just_—_you're _amazingly _out of key."

"Well, not all of us were trained by bloody Pavarotti."

"Try a dingy old radio in the garage," he retorted, making a face.

Lily scoffed. "Come on, you've had lessons_—_at least once in your career."

"That's true. Management wanted to get the husk out of my lower register."

"Oh really? And how'd that work out?"

"They sent me back a changed man. I couldn't go all Bob Dylan now if I wanted to."

"That's a shame."

"Are you a Dylan fan? Or was that just sarcasm?"

Lily cracked a smile and reached to turn down the volume just a notch. "Not sarcasm, believe it or not. _Street-Legal _was the only CD in my dad's car for years. I've got a bit of a thing for husky voices."

James appeared to evaluate this information for a moment. He cleared his throat. "Your dad has good taste in music."

"Yeah. Thank god_ someone _in this family does."

"I dunno, I'd say Petunia's is pretty excellent."

"Ha, ha." Lily wrinkled her nose. "I'm not sure it's your _music _she's so in love with, mate."

James sucked in a breath. "Yeah, about that..." he said, fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. "I've sort of tried everything I can think of to let her know I'm not interested." He turned to appeal to her with a wrinkled forehead. "It doesn't seem to be working."

Lily took one look at his expression of despair and broke into snorting laughter.

"Oi, don't do that," James said. "I'm serious!"

"Sorry," Lily said, sounding anything but. She put on a solemn face. "It must be _awful_ having so many willing females falling at your feet all the time. You have my full emotional support."

James laughed, but it was more a sound of exasperation than amusement. "It's not like that."

"Oh?" Lily raised her eyebrows, then turned her head to change lanes. "What is it like?"

He hesitated. "Pretty fucking terrifying, to be honest."

"I can imagine. All those rabid hordes of preteen girls..."

James was not impressed. He looked at her stonily. "Are you always this sarcastic?"

"Unfortunately." Lily flashed a toothy smile, still staring straight out the windshield at the road ahead. "Sorry. Tell me about how terrifying it is to be loved and adored by half of the world's female population."

"That's just it, though." James was staring out the windscreen as well now. "They don't love _me_, do they? They don't even know me."

Finally, Lily offered nothing in the way of a mocking response. In fact, she remained completely silent until he inhaled loudly and carried on, "Your sister's the perfect example. She's got this idea in her head that she knows exactly who I am because she's read a few hundred magazines."

"A few thousand," Lily corrected.

"Whatever. The point is, that's not me. Sometimes..." He faltered for a second, as though having second thoughts about sharing what he was about to say, "I do wonder, you know, what they'd all think if they really knew me."

Lily chewed her lip, choosing her words carefully. "If they knew your personality, you mean?"

"Yes and no." James was flexing his fingers. "Just... I dunno, things like... I hate giving interviews. I was bullied in school for my specs. Sometimes I'd rather stay on the tour bus and play video games than go out and do a show. That sort of stuff."

"Trust me," Lily said. "You'd have to come up with a lot worse than that to change their minds."

There were a few minutes of silence as the conversation faded out and the two of them contemplated what had just been exchanged. They were venturing into deeper territory than their previous banter had ever allowed, and Lily couldn't help but feel as though she was navigating blind through an unfamiliar landscape.

"You know," she said after a while. "For what it's worth, I actually like the real you a lotbetter than the bloke who's plastered all over Petunia's bedroom walls."

James let out a bark of laughter. "Thanks," he replied, squinting grimly into the sun. "I suppose that's not saying much, huh?"

Lily shrugged, dodging the question. "He does have way better hair, though; I'll give him that."

"The mystical powers of Photoshop, I hear."

Now it was Lily's turn to laugh. Somehow, the conversation became much easier from there on out; they talked music and video games, made fun of the radio announcer's far too nasal voice, played "I Spy," and tried to spell their names from passing license plates until they gave up due to a lack of fellow travellers. All the while, the kilometres rolled on by. James dozed off at one point, and when Lily looked over his mouth was open and his glasses set askew by the window pane. She smirked to herself and kept on driving.

An hour or so passed before Lily hit a pothole and James lurched forward, jolting awake. As Lily tried to apologize through her laughter, he just rubbed his eyes and said, "God, I'm hungry. What time is it?"

"Coming up on eleven," she said. "About time for second breakfast, I reckon."

"I like your thinking," said James. He reached for his rucksack again. "I wonder what Twi— er, Petunia packed for us."

Lily groaned. "You let Petunia pack our snacks?"

"She volunteered," said James, cringing as he pulled out baggies of carrot sticks, apple slices, and almonds. "Looking back, I can see it may have been a mistake to accept."

"No kidding," said Lily, grimacing at the meager pickings. "Honestly, you'd think she wanted us to starve."

"Well, we could always stop for something," James suggested.

Lily nodded. "There's a town coming up," she said, noting a sign to their left. "Ottery Saint Something-or-Other."

"Perfect," said James. "Fingers crossed for a KFC."

They kept their eyes peeled as the town materialized around them, all red brick and waterlogged fields, but Ottery Saint Catchpole did not appear to be the sort of place that would have a KFC. They bypassed a rundown cafe, deciding they would do better to grab something for the road. Then James spotted a tall red-and-blue sign for "Rosmerta's Homestyle Hamburgers - Eat In or Takeaway" in the distance and Lily was sold.

"I haven't had a burger in _years_," she explained, veering into the left lane. "I don't even remember what ketchup tastes like."

"How are you still alive, woman?" James joked. Lily was about to answer when something caught her eye, up ahead on the sidewalk. A cluster of denim shorts and neon fabrics and oversized sunglasses was coming toward them, moving across Rosmerta's driveway with an astounding lack of efficiency.

"Dammit," said Lily, noting that she was about to parade James Potter past this gaggle of smoothie-sipping vultures. She wasn't sure whether to speed up or slow down; in the end, instinct had her jamming her foot on the brake.

"What are you—?" James started in confusion.

"Get down," she said frantically. "Hide your face. Do something, I don't care, just..."

A few of the girls had glanced up at the slight commotion, but they weren't yet close enough to study their faces. At least, Lily hoped not.

"Oh, shit," said James, cluing in. "Ugh, it's alright. Just keep driving."

Although she was wary, Lily did as she was told. James had the sound of somebody who'd done this many times before, and—it occurred to her now—he probably had. As she cruised along at half the speed limit, she watched him recline his seat all the way and place his rucksack over his face.

She drove by the group as nonchalantly as possible, all too aware that she carried their fugitive prince in her passenger seat. She listened for any snippets of their conversation she could catch, but all she heard was "There's broccoli in this? That is _so_ gross!" and someone insistently shouting the name "Jessica." Satisfied that they knew nothing, Lily stepped on the gas.

Once they had left the downtown behind, James sat up and Lily glanced back wistfully at the burger joint.

"Maybe on the way back," said James sympathetically.

The rest of the drive was punctuated by growling stomachs and elaborate food fantasies. Petunia's "snacks" were quickly devoured; the empty ziplocks scattered the dashboard. Every fast food chain they passed sent them into a desperate, salivating frenzy, but in the interest of minimizing public exposure, they pressed on. By the time they reached Knockturn, it was late afternoon and Lily was certain her stomach had eaten itself.

"Looks like we're just about here," she said. They had pulled off the highway onto a road thick with trees, and a few buildings were visible through the foliage ahead. Despite the lack of any "Welcome" sign, Lily knew they had come to the right place. The road was shade-mottled, the buildings made of greyish wood and their windows foggy with cobwebs and dust. They came over a short bridge, but the water underneath was still and rust-coloured. Overhead, the sky was the colour of a fuzzy television screen. It seemed that the entire town was ringing with dead radio silence.

Lily shivered. "Reckon anyone actually _lives _here? It's like a_—_"

"Zombie apocalypse?" James suggested,

"Exactly."

They carried on down the main street, the truck cutting a solitary path along the bumpy road until, finally, they spotted two older men stumbling out of a pub named _Borgin and Burkes_. The sign of life was momentarily reassuring, but their ragged clothing and the way they leered at the vehicle as it passed did nothing to put Lily and James at ease.

"Right," James glanced down at the crumpled pages of maps in his lap. "Library should be just up ahead, if you turn right at the next intersection." His stomach let out a heinous growl. "Sorry," he said. "I'm so fucking hungry."

At the mention of hunger, Lily's abdomen made a similarly loud and vicious noise. She grimaced. "Apparently, my stomach sympathizes."

"They're probably complaining to one another about what terrible people we are."

Lily snorted at the mental image. "Imagine how Petunia's feels. Am I turning here, then?"

They ended up on another lifeless street littered with crumbling stone cottages, rotting trees, and rusty mailboxes. Although they kept their eyes open for the library, they reached a dead end and had to double back before they found it nestled between two homes. The sign was faded and half-covered by a drooping branch, but on a second pass they just managed to make out: _Knockturn Public Library, est. 1865_. There wasn't much to distinguish the building from its neighbours, save that it was slightly bigger and somebody had cleared the dead leaves from its porch.

Lily pulled hesitantly into the small clearing that served as a driveway, studying the darkened windows with doubt. "Do you reckon they're even open?" she asked.

"Should be," answered James. "It's only three-thirty."

"No, I mean_—_does anybody still _work_ at this place?" The fact that they'd only counted two living beings so far did not bode well for their intentions. For all they knew, the Knockturn Library may have closed down years and years ago. Lily's writhing stomach clenched at the thought; all this way, only to return empty-handed...

James was already opening his door. "Only one way to find out, right?"

Lily was about to follow suit when she had a thought. "Wait!" she called out. "What if somebody recognizes you?"

"Shit, I forgot," said James, slamming the door shut. He immediately started rummaging around in his pack, saying: "Not likely we'll meet any die hard fans in here, but just in case..." He pulled out a bundle of oddments and shook them out on his lap.

"Oh god," said Lily as he assembled the disguise. Onto his head went a floppy ginger wig, long at the sides and back to cover the mess of hair underneath. Next, he donned a red-and-purple baseball cap. Lily almost lost it when she saw the word "Swag" displayed on its front, and then James popped a gold cap onto his lateral incisor and she doubled over laughing. Combined with the glasses, it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever seen.

"What?" said James in mock earnestness. He grinned broadly; "do I have something in my teeth?"

Lily took a deep breath to recover. "Way to blend in," she said. "You can't _actually_ go in there like that."

"Why not?" said James. "I look nothing like myself."

It was true, she had to admit. This guise was the furthest thing from James Potter she could possibly imagine.

"Well, do you have a name?" she quizzed.

James screwed up his face in thought, almost sending her into hysterics again. "Vernon," he finally blurted out. "Vernon... Dudley."

"You are _bonkers._"

James reached for his door handle. "That's the idea."

Lily followed suit, and when their car doors echoed along the deserted street, a yellow-eyed tabby bolted from the library's porch in alarm.

"What the—that was the creepiest bloody cat I've ever seen," James said, craning his neck to follow its path across the yard. "What is _wrong _with this place?"

It was a completely valid question. When Lily noticed that the door knocker was a metal replica of a human skull, she began to have serious misgivings.

"Do we... knock?" she said, floundering in confusion.

James looked equally unsure. "Well... there's no sign or anything. Maybe we should, just to be safe."

"Alright..." Making a face, Lily grasped the skull loosely between two fingers and gave a tentative couple of raps.

Surprisingly, the response was almost immediate. The woman who answered was thin, dressed in black, and resembled an underfed vulture.

"Yes?" she said, eyeing them up and down.

"Er, hello," James greeted her with an awkward raise of his hand. "Is this the library?"

"It 'tis."

"Right. Sorry for knocking, we weren't sure..." He trailed off as his eyes fell upon the inside of the building. Lily followed his gaze to find a cramped, dark space stacked to the ceiling with overflowing shelves and dusty-looking books.

"Come in, then," the woman said, gesturing for them to join her inside.

The library smelled very strongly of old people. There was about a centimeter of dust on the wooden floor and not a single computer in sight.

"What might I help you find today?" the librarian asked. It sounded almost like a challenge.

"Er, we're just having a look around for now," said Lily. "But thank you."

The woman did nothing to acknowledge the comment, but simply retreated behind a large wooden desk. Lily and James had agreed it would be safest to conduct the search on their own, but with no idea where to start, they couldn't help but falter. They stood in the centre of the room for a moment or two, then took off determinedly in completely different directions and crashed into each other as they righted themselves. Finally, Lily muttered "We're going this way" and pushed James toward the farthest aisle. She could feel eyes on her back as they walked away.

"That woman gives me the creeps," she breathed, grabbing his arm to drag him behind an enormous shelf. "All right, now what are we looking for?"

James, who was glancing at her hand on his bicep, seemed distracted. "...Uh, newspapers, right?"

"Yes," Lily said, releasing him. "But where are they? I didn't see any on the way in."

"Might I suggest a browse through our newspaper archive, located on Level Two." The librarian appeared so suddenly that Lily and James both stumbled backwards into the shelf with a _thud_. A shower of dust rained down upon them, and they coughed, swatting the particles away from their faces.

The woman seemed unaffected. She fixed them with a ghoulish expression that resembled neither a smile nor a frown, but was the most odd and terrifying thing that Lily had ever seen. "If you'll allow me to escort you..." She turned, motioning for the two of them to follow her.

Lily made wide eyes of frustration at James, who simply shrugged in defeat. "Maybe she can help," he whispered.

And so they followed the woman's hunched back up a rickety flight of stairs and found themselves on a half-storey with questionable railings that overlooked the bottom floor of the library. Against the outer wall was a row of display cases. Each was filled with an array of historical artefacts, from a gramophone to a model sailboat. The lower parts of the cases were made up of wide, shallow drawers, which Lily could only assume were the archives.

"The drawers are labelled by year," said the woman. "You can look for yourselves, but please do not tap on the glass."

"Right, thanks," said Lily.

If they thought those were her words of parting, they were sadly mistaken. She took a few steps back but otherwise stayed exactly where she was to oversee their every move.

James coughed. "Eighty-seven, was it?"

"Yeah," Lily answered. She started toward one of the middle cases, noted the date, and paced over to the right, James close behind her. "This one," she said, stooping to open one of the lower drawers.

Inside were two stacks of the _Knockturn Weekly_. The two on top were labelled the 5th of January and the 6th of July.

"Shoot," whispered Lily. "What was the month?" They had written down the exact date, but it was on a slip of paper tucked safely away in one of their packs. Behind them, the librarian looked ready to pounce.

"Er, um, try August? Or October maybe?"

It seemed that luck was on their side for once; Lily had only to lift up two July newspapers and there it was:

_Ten Dead in Local Forest Fire_

A quick flick through the article showed it to be much more extensive than what they had found on the internet; it spanned several pages. Lily moved excitedly to pull the newspaper out of the archive.

"Ah, ah," the librarian cut in frantically. "The papers are not to be removed from the drawers. They are very fragile."

By this point, Lily was completely fed up with their overzealous vulture of a babysitter. "Sorry," she snapped. Then, with the entire mess still in the flat compartment, she attempted to read the article while holding up the top of the stack with one hand.

She stopped when James nudged her gently, motioning to something in his pocket. By instinct, Lily huddled in close. What James was doing—although harmless—wasn't likely to go down well with the librarian. Fortunately, she was still a few metres away as he positioned his phone over the pages and snapped as many pictures of the article as he could manage. When he was finished, he deftly stowed the phone back in his pocket.

Lily gave him a grateful smile. "I wonder if there's anything el—"

A shadow fell over them that could only mean one thing: the librarian's need to meddle had trumped all consideration for personal space. Aware that her every move was being scrutinized, Lily put the top papers down gingerly and slid the drawer back in. James stood and offered her a hand.

"I wouldn't advise you to go searching in such dark corners around here," said the librarian coolly. The words puzzled Lily until she realized that the woman must have seen the article they were studying so intently.

"We're sorry," said Lily, looking at her feet. "It's— it's a personal interest thing is all. Our parents used to live near here and they mentioned it."

The librarian blinked at them both. "We do not speak of it in these parts," she said darkly. "It was a horrible, horrible thing happened that night. You won't find the truth of it in these papers—only man who could tell you any of it is in no fit state to say a word."

Lily looked up. "There was a witness?"

"Not a witness, girl." A shadow fell over her face as she spoke. "A survivor."

A chill zipped up Lily's spine. "I—I didn't know anyone survived the fire."

"There was one," she reiterated. "Of course, he was never the same after what he'd seen. Trauma-induced psychosis, they called it. Still up at St. Mungo's, 'sfar as I know. Dreadful, dreadful."

"What was his name?" James asked, and Lily feared that his forwardness might put an end to whatever spell the librarian was currently under, but the woman carried right on.

"Gaunt," she said. "Morfin Gaunt. Boy's father was a schoolteacher—never knew the little one would get mixed up in such dark business..."

"And this St. Mungo's—where is that?" asked James.

Lily would have very much liked to kick him as she watched the librarian snap out of it and fix them with a glare. "What did I tell you about dark corners, boy?"

"Right, sorry," said James. "Er, it's about time for us to go anyway. Thank you for all your help."

The librarian grunted and followed them down the stairs. Her piercing gaze followed them all the way out the door.

"So, first impressions of Knockturn?" James asked when they were back inside the truck.

"Forget the lakehouse," said Lily, "we're taking a family trip out here next summer."

James laughed, loud and pure, and for a moment it was easy to forget the gravity of the task upon them.

* * *

As evening began to descend upon Gryffindale, the Evans house quietened down to match the stillness of the summer air outside. Sirius, Remus and Peter sat around the coffee table engaged in a lazy game of cards, while Petunia sequestered herself in the kitchen and meticulously chopped celery for her bedtime snack. An odd chorus of scuffing and growling sounds became gradually apparent above the silence, growing from a slight murmur to a blatant racket, until finally, there was a ridiculously loud crash that reverberated through the entire lower storey. The curtain rod had been yanked off of the sitting room window.

The three boys started. Peter dropped his cards.

"Good lord," Sirius burst out over the despondent meows that were now circulating the room. "What the hell has gotten into that thing?"

Harry, the culprit, jumped down from the windowsill and proceeded to stalk restlessly back and forth across the carpet.

Peter leaned over the arm of the sofa and extended his hand, clicking his fingers together stupidly. "Here, kitty kitty kitty," he said. "Here, kitty kitty—_YIKE_!"

The cat had pounced on his hand. Peter snatched his fingers back and clutched them to his chest. "Ow, bugger it."

"Clever," Sirius deadpanned.

"Really, though," Remus said, ignoring this exchange and eyeing Harry with interest, "it's almost as though he's possessed or something."

"Maybe he's hungry," Sirius suggested. Then, in a louder voice: "Oi! Twiggie! Your cat's gone mental!"

It took a few seconds for Petunia's footsteps to become audible. She stuck her head through the doorway. "First of all, he belongs to Lily," she snapped. "And therefore, it doesn't concern me. And second of all—" She stopped abruptly when she noticed the bare window frame and the heap of floral lace lying below. Her shoulders rose. "Sodding cat," she snarled, reaching to pick up the carnage and unleashing a series of crashes and bangs as she wrestled the whole thing back into place. Harry stood by her ankles and hissed.

Petunia had been in an exceptionally foul mood all day long. It didn't take a genius to figure out why, considering she had spent much of the afternoon angrily re-organizing her library of Marauder DVDs and glaring out the window every time a car rolled past.

When the curtain rod popped back into place, Harry began shredding a section of carpet and Petunia stood back with an almighty growl. She turned around to find herself being ogled by three sets of eyes. Peter averted his gaze immediately, bending to retrieve his scattered cards, while Remus offered a tight-lipped smile and coughed. Sirius, meanwhile, did not relent. He held her gaze firmly and said, as though they'd been discussing it all along:

"Give it up, Twiggie."

Petunia started. "Give it up? Give what up, Black?"

"Don't play stupid. Hell, you've already got that covered naturally."

"Excuse me?" She took a shuddering step toward him, the red in her face quickly overtaking the bright hue of her hair. "What are you even on about?"

"This... _thing_ with James. It's going to have to stop, you know."

"What? There is no—"

"The hell there isn't. The way you act around him, it's childish and creepy and to be perfectly honest, it's never going to go anywhere so you should really stop trying."

A block of stunned silence followed, broken by Remus' low warning of "Mate...".

Sirius seemed to realize that his words had been rather harsh. He released his stare, letting out a sigh as Petunia began to blink furiously. "Come on, Twiggie, you know what I mean. You've got to stop pining over him. You're only driving yourself mental."

But as her teary reflex response abated, Petunia could only gape at him with raw fury pouring out of every inch of her skin. She did not seem to be able to reply.

Sirius carried on, though it was clear his level of comfort was declining. "All I'm saying is that you'll be way happier if you can just bloody well move on already. You know, for your own sake—"

"Stop!" Petunia finally burst out. It was a high, grating sound that made everyone wince. "Just stop." She expelled something that may have been a sob or a maniacal laugh. "My god, every single thing you say is less and less your business."

"The bloke's my best mate, Twiggie. You can bet your ass it's my business."

"You have _no right _to—"

"To what? State the obvious? For christ's sake! Anyone with half a brain can see that James isn't interested in the same way!"

"You know what your problem is?" Petunia shrieked. "You spend way too much time caught up in James' life because you realize that yours is absolutely... _pathetic_ by comparison!"

Sirius regarded her coolly. "Say what you want, but at least I'm not some snivelling little lovestruck fangirl who can't catch a hint for the life of her..."

_Smack_.

Petunia stood in front of the sofa, arm outstretched, and directed her watery gaze toward the slack-jawed Sirius, whose cheek was rapidly blooming red. She took a few steps backward and then turned, bolting from the room before any of the boys could see her face contort.

Sirius, meanwhile, lifted a hand to the stinging patch of skin. "She's only upset because she knows it's true," he said lamely.

Remus and Peter exchanged glances, finally shifting from their awkward bystander poses.

"I'm not so sure about that," Remus said.

The three boys sat in silence for several long minutes, listening as Petunia's footsteps disappeared to the upper level and then remaining frozen in an uncomfortable hush.

Finally, Peter leaned to pick up a box from the coffee table. "Er, chess, anyone?"

There was a sputtering hiss as the game was knocked clean out of his hands, sending several pawns exploding onto the carpet.

Peter shrieked.

Harry stalked away, tail swishing behind him in annoyance.

* * *

St. Mungo's Psychiatric Hospital looked like something out of a B-grade horror film. When Lily ground the truck to a shuddering halt in the decrepit parking lot, she and James leaned forward for a few seconds simply to stare up at the old dwelling in apprehension.

"Blimey," James said. "Are you sure this is it?"

The grandiose piece of Victorian architecture had long ago fallen prey to neglect and disrepair. Sharp spires, chipped windows and lifeless tree corpses created a hollow, foreboding facade, and Lily expected a colony of bats to come flying out of one of the turrets at any moment. Her eyes slid to the comparatively dull and modern sign that was nailed to the gatepost. Most of the letters had been blacked out so that it read 'St. Spit'.

"So it would seem," she deadpanned.

Neither of them made a move to get out of the truck.

"Maybe this is a bad idea," James eventually said. "It looks sort of... unsanctioned."

Lily was inclined to agree, but now that the the initial shock was plateauing, a morbid curiosity was beginning to creep in. "It's definitely a bad idea," she allowed, "but can you think of anything better?"

James sighed. "Not particularly."

"Right, then let's do this."

They remained stationary.

"I think we need a code word," Lily suggested at length. "You know, in case of tortured, lobotomized ghosts."

"That seems like a valid concern. Okay, how about... mimblewimble?"

Lily let out a great snort and then proceeded to very nearly die from her hysterics. "Sorry," she gasped. "Just—that's possibly the dumbest word I've ever heard."

"Thanks," said James.

"I like it."

"Alright, mimblewimble it is, then."

Lily snorted again as they moved to open their doors. "Wait," she said, gesturing urgently to James' face. "Dudley—Vernon—whatever his name is."

"Oh, right." James rummaged around in his bag and pulled out the wig and hat, shoving them carelessly onto his head. He added the gold tooth as an afterthought, turning to flash a smile at Lily.

She cringed. "Still disturbing."

"Really? I'm becoming quite fond of it. Might have to make this my new look when we get back to touring."

"Good luck with that."

The air outside was muggy and thick. Lily swatted several mosquitos away as she manually locked the doors of the truck.

"Well," said James as they headed up the overgrown path. "It can't be any worse inside, right?"

As it turned out, it could. The lobby was a mess of peeling wallpaper and water damage, with a fishtank that appeared to be more or less devoid of life and a couple of mouldy-looking chairs. A crusty old woman glared from behind the registration desk when the door smacked shut behind them.

"Hi..." Lily said, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of sandalwood and decay. "Er, how are you?"

"What's your business?" the woman replied, sending disapproving vibes overtop of her glasses as she examined James' snapback and grill.

Lily put on her most charming face. "We were wondering if your visiting hours were still going on."

"Not for much longer," she replied. "And we take family members only."

"We wanted to visit our grandfather," James said, using their pre-rehearsed explanation. "Er, Morfin Gaunt."

The woman knocked over her stapler. By the time she had righted it, her face was awash with alarm and suspicion. "Mr. Gaunt receives no visitors."

"Well, this _is _our first time here..."

"He also," she said icily, "has no living relatives. I've never seen either of you before. What did you say your names were?"

"Vernon Dudley," James replied, the wind noticeably knocked out of his sails. "And this is my sister, Lulu."

The woman was jotting their names down with a frown. "Yes, well, _Vernon_," she said, "we don't take well to silly pranks. I'll be running your names past Mr. Gaunt and our managers before we can set up an appointment for you."

"We're visiting from out of town," Lily appealed. "We're leaving tonight and we were really hoping we might see him before we go."

"Mr. Gaunt doesn't cope well with unexpected company," the woman said. "I'm sure you understand, given his condition."

Lily deflated. "Of... of course."

It was clear that their welcome had expired, and so, with no other option, Lily and James headed for the door.

"Well, that was a waste of time," Lily said as they navigated the cracked stone walkway.

James appeared to be deep in thought—something that contrasted comically with his Vernon getup.

"What?" Lily prodded. "Tell me you're not considering— Forget about it, we can't go back in now. We should just come back in the morning, right? I mean, maybe someone else will be on shift." She doubted her own words even as she said them.

James stopped in his tracks. "Just let me try one thing, okay? Wait out here for a second."

"James..." she warned, but it was too late. He had already loped back up the path and was pulling open the door.

Lily shook her head as she made her way back to the car. She wanted to be ready in case this ended badly, as it most likely would. However, after a few minutes of nail-biting impatience, she saw James grinning as he beckoned her toward the entrance. It wasn't the sight she had expected.

"Come on," he said when she reached him. He held the door open as she stepped cautiously inside. The decrepit interior was the same, but the receptionist had utterly transformed. Where before there had been a grimace carved into her stony face, there was now a demented sort of upward curve that might have been a smile save for her still-furrowed brow. It was terrifying, but Lily fought to keep a straight face.

"Have a nice visit," the woman said somewhat pleasantly as they passed. James held up a hand in thanks and led the way around a corner to a set of double doors. Lily couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw the woman counting notes out of the corner of her eye.

* * *

It was a well-known fact in the Evans household that when Petunia was riled, or sulking, or determinedly avoiding something, she routinely took solace between the four pink, poster-clad walls of her bedroom. And so, the afternoon following her scuffle with Sirius, this was precisely where she could be found—if anybody were brave enough to seek her out.

Today, however, the blazing fuchsia brought her no comfort. Neither did all the James Potters staring down at her. She began her exile cross-legged and straight-backed among her lacy pillows, but it didn't take long before she'd thrown every one of them onto the floor and torn off her carnation quilt and ruby sheets in a fit of internal conflict. She had then spent an hour or two sprawled inelegantly on a bare mattress, furiously Googling new styling ideas, composing and deleting long-winded texts to Fliss and co., and generally avoiding the thousand hazel eyes on her walls.

By about four o'clock, it seemed unlikely that she could sink any deeper into despair.

And then, from somewhere below, there came a loud _clunk_ and the sound of shattering glass.

Petunia tensed up, then rolled her eyes and continued gnashing her sugar-free gum. But she appeared to reconsider as she toyed with the hemp bracelet on her wrist, and a moment later she made her way tentatively downstairs and rounded the corner into the kitchen, preparing her unimpressed eyebrows and condescending tone.

"If one of you idiots broke something, I swear—"

The scene before her caused everything else to flee her mind, leaving only a vortex of confusion and a giant sign flashing "Danger! Danger!"

It was not the Marauders who had broken something, in fact, but a newcomer. Vernon Dursley stood frozen in the centre of the kitchen, his hands awkwardly outstretched as if trying to solve an invisible Rubik's cube, his head tipped to one side, his already-magnified eyes bugging out of his skull. At his feet, a grotesque puddle of glass shards and some kind of fruit preserves.

Across the counter, three similarly petrified figures were caught in varying stages of flight: Sirius had his hands on the table, and his chair had tipped over behind him; Remus was reaching for the basement door; and Peter had managed to get halfway under the table, but his protruding backside was a dead giveaway.

The boys looked positively panic-stricken, and when Petunia entered they looked to her at once as if for direction. Sadly, she could do nothing but match their doe-eyed stares. There was a long and almost comical session of heads swiveling in every which direction, and then Vernon stumbled backwards. The sole of his ergonomic loafer crushed a shard of glass into the linoleum.

"_Them_." Vernon's single-word reaction, expelled with great effort, was accompanied by a trembling finger aimed in the direction of the Marauders. He turned to Petunia, taking odd, screechy breaths.

"Vernon," Petunia said in a tone that she hoped was placating. "I can—I can explain."

Sirius stared at her as if to say: "Good luck".

And indeed, when Petunia searched her mental catalogue for a suitable excuse, she found all of the pages to be filled with the words '_bad, bad, this is bad_' and very little else.

In the end, Vernon beat her to the punch. "It _is _them, isn't it?" he demanded. "Those Marauder gits."

"Oi," Sirius said.

Petunia struggled internally for a moment, and then hunched in defeat. "Yes."

"I knew it." Vernon's face was beginning to soak up the plum colour of the jam at his feet. "I _knew _it. I mean, I've been seeing shadows through your windows and hearing strange noises for days, but I never expected..."

"You _what_?"

Vernon stepped forward, ignoring this comment and tracking jam all over the floor. He peered skeptically at the three boys, all of whom had now straightened up and looked ill at ease. "They are _real_, aren't they?" Vernon said gruffly. "Not that cosplay nonsense or some such?" He leaned over the table and inspected the sleeve of Sirius' jacket at a frightening proximity.

"Fix your specs, mate," Sirius said, pulling away in disgust.

Vernon let out something that sounded like a growl. "Petunia," he said. "Please explain yourself."

There was silence as all eyes fell upon her. Petunia cast another look around the scene: Sirius, glancing distastefully at the intruder, Remus looking cautious and worn, Peter resting his hands on the table and twiddling his thumbs, and finally Vernon, who was fixing her with a flawless Sherlock Holmes deadpan as he waited for the verdict. As many times as she went through the options in her head, she couldn't seem to find a logical way out of this. What was she supposed to say? _Oh, they just dropped in to say hi_? Even the truth would likely seem a ridiculous concoction.

"Vern," she said, "if I tell you, you _must _promise not to repeat this to anyone."

"Hold up," Sirius cut in, looking alarmed. "You're not—You can't _actually _tell him—"

"Vernon," Petunia maintained, staring at him. "Please, for... me."

It was like watching a pair of puddings form in place of his eyes. Vernon's lips curled into a silly half-smile. "Of course."

"Right," Petunia said, shifting uncomfortably. She took a deep breath, and before she knew it, most of the twisted tale was pouring out of her mouth. Not too much, but just enough to convey the fact that they were in trouble, and it was serious. As he listened, Vernon's face darkened from purple to blue, and by the time Petunia was done talking, he had turned a shade of indigo that was actually concerning.

"I don't like this," he grunted. "I don't like this at all. Petunia, I don't feel right having you alone in a house with three young men."

"Four," Peter corrected.

Vernon's eyes bugged out when he realized that the key member of the ensemble was missing. "Not that bloke... Jack Whatsit?" he erupted. Turning, purple-faced, towards Petunia, he demanded, "Where is he?"

"_James_," she said in exasperation. "And he's gone... out."

"Run off, has he? Taken advantage of your generosity and bolted, I suppose, the swine."

Petunia pinched the bridge of her nose. "For goodness' sake, Vernon."

But it appeared that their unwanted guest was already headed down a different corridor of thought. "They're on the run," he was saying, mostly to himself, as he paced back and forth. Petunia cringed and tried to ignore the sticky red mess that was spreading under the soles of his feet. "Possibly hiding from the authorities... no—no, I can't let this stand." He looked up sharply. "I have no choice but to report them."

"_WHAT_?" Sirius and Petunia had both spoken at once. Behind them, Peter and Remus exchanged a look of wide-eyed alarm.

Vernon crossed his arms and adopted a pose reminiscent of old-time detective movies. "Petunia, the story you just told me was vague and confusing at best. It makes no sense unless they're hiding from the police."

"Trust me, then," Petunia appealed. "It's more complicated than that."

"Why stay here?" Vernon carried on, addressing the three boys now. "Why not go straight to the authorities and get protection? I'm sure the secret services would be positively gagging to safeguard the ruddy_ Marauders_."

"Look," Sirius finally burst out. "Last I checked, _you _were the one breaking and entering here, mate."

Vernon took a step forward. "Are you threatening me?"

"Obviously," Sirius scoffed.

Remus grabbed the fabric of Sirius' shirt, restraining him. "Stop," he advised.

"Thentell this spec-faced git to mind his own business!"

That was all it took for Vernon to cross the space between them and jab his finger into Sirius' chest. "Look, _mate_," he mocked, "Anything that's Petunia's business is mine as well."

"What, are you dating her or something?"

"No," Petunia said in horror. "No, no, no." She pushed forward and swatted Vernon's hand away from Sirius' sternum, forcing them apart. "Just stop it, both of you!"

The two of them continued to direct ugly glares at one another as they were separated.

"_You_," Petunia swiveled to face Vernon, "promised me that you wouldn't tell anyone. So you'd better not go back on your word. And _you_," she was glaring at Sirius now, "...just... shut up."

"Listen." It was Remus, surprisingly, who spoke. He stepped forward cautiously, holding his hands up to Vernon as though in surrender. "I'm sorry you've been dragged into this—"

"Trespassed his way into it, more like," Sirius muttered.

"—and I'm sorry we can't tell you more. But please." If there was anyone who could appeal to a person's sense of sympathy, it was Remus Lupin and his deep-set gaze. "All we can do is ask you to keep this a secret. Just for now, until we sort things out."

Vernon lifted one side of his mouth in a cross between a grunt and a snarl.

"Please, please, please," Petunia added, clasping her hands together for dramatic effect.

This, of course, was the tap of the hammer that finally crumbled his rock-solid resolve. "I don't approve of this," Vernon warned. "But if it's what you want," He sighed and shook his head in Petunia's direction. "then... well... you have my word."

"_Thank _you."

"But Petunia," he continued. "I'd like to speak to you alone for a moment."

She tensed, reflexively uncomfortable at the mention of any sort of one-on-one interaction with Vernon Dursley. But... perhaps she did owe him this small grace. She felt her shoulders sag. "Alright."

After much hinting and prodding, the Marauders filed into the adjoining room, but not without one final death glare from Sirius. Petunia returned it tenfold and then, maintaining the evil eye, she shut the door in his face to block out any potential eavesdropping. "What is it?" she asked, turning her attention back to Vernon.

He looked suddenly uneasy, as though he had only just noticed that he was the sole other occupant of the room. Petunia, upon some reflection, realized that she hadn't actually had a private conversation with him in several years. She had a tendency to barricade herself behind others in such situations.

Vernon's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. "I need your word. Are you _sure _they're not dangerous?"

"Of course," Petunia said. "Don't be stupid."

Vernon's brow was lowered as he narrowed his eyes in thought. "I really don't like this."

"But... _why_?" she asked in exasperation.

"Because," Vernon replied, sounding equally as irritated, "rock stars aren't the most trustworthy of things."

"Of people, you mean."

Vernon just rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses further up his thin nose. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"They're not serial killers." Petunia redirected her gaze to the ceiling briefly. "But if it makes you feel better, I've got Lily."

Vernon blinked, finally cluing in to the younger sister's absence. "Right. Where is she, anyway?"

"With James." The clipped response was undeniably sour.

Vernon did not look particularly upset at this news. He folded his arms in satisfaction and crossed his ankles, crunching a piece of glass underfoot as he rearranged his footing. They both glanced down at the sugary red mess on the linoleum.

"Ah... That was meant to be for you." Vernon cleared his throat. "Strawberry—I made it fresh this morning. I can drop by with another jar later on."

"No," Petunia said, glancing down in distaste. "That's alright. I'm... er, allergic."

"No you're not. You don't have any allergies; only a mild irritation to dust." The answer was so immediate and precise it was almost as though he was reading off of her medical chart. He coughed. "Anyhow, you love strawberries."

"How did—?" Petunia pressed her lips together and regrouped her thoughts, trying not to be disturbed by this evaluation. "I meant the preservatives and sugar and things," she amended. "They hurt my stomach."

Vernon was unblinkingly maintaining eye contact. "No they don't," he said quietly. "You just say that so that you don't have to eat them."

There was silence. Nobody had ever called her out so explicitly and solemnly before, and Petunia felt oddly exposed.

"Yes," she snapped after a moment's pause. "They do, thanks. I think I know my own body. And I also think it's time for you to leave."

Vernon wasn't about to argue with her. As he turned for the front door, however, he hesitated. "I just wish you could see..." He trailed off. "That is, I wish you wouldn't do that. To yourself."

And then he was gone.

Petunia stood there for a good minute or so, heartbeat erratic in her chest. Then, she fetched the kitchen broom and swept up the sticky disaster, the sweet smell of strawberries floating up to her nose as she carried the shards to the bin. Almost immediately, she grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and murdered all traces of the tantalizing scent, wiping up the goo with a paper towel and then washing her hands under scalding water.

She was just folding the tea towel back over the handle of the oven when the basement door burst open and the Marauders reappeared.

"Did he propose?" Sirius enquired lazily.

"Yes," Petunia said through gritted teeth. "We're having a June wedding in the Bahamas, and you're not invited."

"Thank god."

Remus headed over to a bar stool and sat down with a long-suffering sigh. "In all seriousness, though," he said. "Was that anything we should be concerned about?"

Petunia shook her head. "No," she said. "He'll keep his word." She grabbed a Vitamin Water from the fridge, preparing to head back upstairs, but paused one last time to add, "It was nothing".

* * *

"What did you do?" Lily hissed as the doors shut behind them. "James, you can't just _bribe _peop—"

"I got us in, didn't I?" he whispered back. "Just go with it."

Lily had to accept that she had no choice. They hadn't taken five paces down the whitewashed hall before a balding man in a lab coat stepped out of a room to greet them.

"You are visitors for Mr. Gaunt?" he asked.

"Yes," said James. He gestured toward the lobby, clearing his throat. "I spoke with the receptionist—we're his, er, grandkids..."

"I understand," said the man politely. "However, your grandfather's room is located in the high security wing, so I'll be accompanying you for safety reasons."

_Safety reasons_. Lily shared a worried look with James, wondering just how dangerous the man could be.

"Right. Sure," said James to the attendant as they started down the hallway. "Er, is he very unstable? See, we've been told of his condition, but we haven't actually been to visit him before..."

"Unstable?" said the man. "Well, to a certain degree, yes. Most of our patients are. But Mr. Gaunt was placed in this ward under personal request."

"Ah, I see," said James. They stopped at another set of doors, and the man pulled out a keycard to let them through.

"It's best if we keep fairly quiet in this hallway," he told them.

Lily was acutely aware of the scuffling of her sandals on the tiled floor. The doors on either side of them were blank and windowless with several locks each. A muffled wail came from beyond one of them as they passed by, and the sound was so chilling that Lily instinctively stepped in closer to James. His response, surprisingly, was to put a hand against her lower back.

"_All right_?" he mouthed, legitimately concerned.

Lily shrugged away, nodding, and James hastily withdrew his hand to jam it into his pocket.

"Just through here," the man said in a low voice, turning the corner sharply and guiding them into a corridor that was devoid of doors.

That is, until the very end, where a solid metal doorframe flickered under dying LED lamps.

"Mr. Morfin Gaunt, room 713," their guide announced, raising his keycard to the handle. "If you don't mind waiting outside for a moment, I'll let him know you're here."

Lily felt her stomach clench in fear as the man disappeared inside, leaving the two of them to fidget nervously in the hallway. "James, what are we doing?" she whispered frantically. "He's going to know we're not his grandchildren. Blimey, this was a mad idea."

James looked pale. "Too late to back out now."

Beyond the door, they heard the placating tones of the hospital worker along an odd sort of hissing that could easily have been a snake, had they not known better.

The door creaked back open. "He will speak to you," the bald man said. "Come in."

James shot her a look that was equal parts amazement and trepidation. Lily nodded and followed him inside, where the attendant closed the door behind them with a sharp _click_.

Morfin Gaunt was a shrunken man. He had the look of somebody who had once been tall, but his navy robe drooped from rounded shoulders and his bony frame was withered and wilting. He was seated in a metal folding chair, his spindly arms outstretched on a table where his fingers fiddled with the beads of an abacus. James nudged Lily's side subtly, pointing to the exposed skin of his forearm, and she saw it immediately. There, faded amidst the spidery veins and scar tissue, was the Grim Seraph.

"Here they are, Mr. Gaunt," the man in the lab coat said. "Your granddaughter and grandson."

James and Lily stiffened, gauging Morfin's reaction, but the man continued to push beads around on his abacus, unconcerned.

Their supervisor was nodding encouragingly, and so James cleared his throat. "Hello, er, grandfather," he said. "It's Vernon and Lulu."

Nothing.

Lily gained some courage. "How are you?"

Gaunt let out a quiet hiss and frowned at his abacus, retracing his latest calculation with violent motions.

"His condition has rather deteriorated in recent years, I'm afraid," the attendant said with sympathy.

As though in response, Morfin Gaunt unleashed a series of hissing noises, still staring fiercely at the black and white beads between his fingers. Lily's spine prickled; she found herself irrationally creeped out by the way his mouth moved around the sounds with such intensity and precision, as though he was speaking some sinister language.

"Er, we're here because we, er, wanted to ask you about something," said James, shifting his stance. "We, er..."

"We're working on a school assignment," said Lily, because it was the first thing that popped into her head. "About our family history."

James shot her a look of surprised appraisal that said '_Good save'_.

"Right," he added. "We were wondering if we could ask you a bit about your early life—you know, for the biography section."

It was beginning to seem highly unlikely that they would get anything whatsoever out of this man. He stuck his tongue out this time, giving a wide-mouthed hiss.

"You see," Lily said, looking a bit rattled, "we're quite estranged from our parents, so they're no help. Going off of the research we've done so far, there seem to be a lot of connections to a certain... organization." She paused. "Er, _Sons of Salazar_, I think it's called."

Gaunt's response was immediate and terrifying. With a single swipe of his seemingly frail arms, he overturned the table and sent his abacus skittering across the room with a sound like an angry rattlesnake. Lily threw herself back against the wall in response, with James placing himself slightly ahead of her.

What they saw as he finally raised his head was shocking. The man's face was scarred and twisted, his left cheek shiny and pink with the unmistakable remnants of severe burns. Lily sucked in a gasp of air at the gruesome revelation.

"Mimblewimble," said James.

Gaunt made no move toward them; he launched himself into the corner of his bed, made himself as small as possible, and began to grapple at the walls as if to better conceal himself in their depths. At the same time, he was shouting in a rough voice full of fear.

"HE SENT YOU!" the man roared. "Riddle, to finish... disgusting business—MURDERERS—Gone, all of them gone." He was shaking furiously. "OUT! I want them out!"

"I'm sorry," said the attendant. He kept a half-eye on Gaunt as he ushered them through the door. "Please, go out the way you came." With that he closed the door behind them, and they were alone in the hall.

"Shit," said James in bewilderment.

"Let's go," said Lily.

The two of them hurried down the hall and around the bend, past the doors in the high security ward where the wailing had grown louder in response to Gaunt's outburst. Lily's pace quickened in time with her heartbeat, and soon enough they came through the final set of doors. James tossed another few bills at the receptionist as they whisked through the lobby and out into the moonlit evening.

"How did it get dark so quickly?" James panted as they flung themselves into the truck.

Lily tried to calm her pulse, falling against the back of the seat and closing her eyes. "Just one more creepy-arse thing about this ruddy town."

"Fuck." James leaned back as well, breathing heavily. "I'm going to have nightmares for years."

The two of them remained silent for several long minutes, struggling to recover from the utter fright that was still pumping through their veins.

Finally, Lily opened her eyes. "Riddle," she said.

James looked over. "Pardon?"

"Riddle," she repeated. "Gaunt mentioned that name."

"Yeah," recalled James. "Bit of a stupid name, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but do you suppose it's, I dunno, significant?"

James opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Lily let out a snort and reached out with a limp hand to swat his hat off of his head. "Take off that stupid disguise. I can't take you seriously."

James smiled. "Sorry," he said, yanking off his wig. "What I was going to say was, maybe it's not a name at all. Maybe he's just shouting about riddles because he's, you know, mad."

Lily considered. "Could be, but then why was he shouting about 'He sent you' and all that? I feel like it's got to be a person."

James sighed and squinted out the window. "Riddle," he said. "Riddle... It's not a lot to go off of, is— hold on, let me check something." He reached for his back pocket.

"What?" said Lily, suddenly anxious.

James was scrolling through something on his phone. "It's probably nothing, I didn't even read this properly before..." He stopped scrolling. "Holy— no way, here it is!"

"Here is _what_?" Lily demanded, practically climbing the console to read over his shoulder.

"Riddle's mentioned in the article," said James excitedly. He began to read: "_Forensic analysts identified the bodies of nine confirmed members of the group. A tenth body, too damaged for analysis, is assumed to belong to the only outstanding member, twenty-two-year-old Thomas Riddle_."

Lily's eyes were alight, even under the evening sky. "So basically..." She missed the way James gulped when he raised his head to find her so close. "...Gaunt was telling us that this Riddle bloke started the fire! Do you reckon? Er, sorry." She scrabbled back over the console in reverse.

"Riddle, who is apparently dead," James reminded her. "I'm also not sure Gaunt was the most reliable of sources. But," he put his phone away, "it does seem that way."

"But what does that _mean_?" Lily said, slumping back in frustration. "And how does any of this have anything to do with Val DeMort?"

"It doesn't," James agreed. "Actually, I'm starting to wonder if Val's tattoo _is _just a random coincidence."

Lily blew strands of hair off of her forehead. "What now, then?"

James seemed to be considering something, but he hesitated. "This is probably going too far," he said slowly, "but, well, what if we spoke to the police? We could give them the same 'family history assignment' crap and see if they might let slip something about the fire."

"Are they even allowed to do that?"

"I dunno. As I said, it's a bit of a crazy thought. Just throwing it out there."

Lily was silent for a moment. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a truly idiotic idea. But try as she might, she couldn't see another plausible direction to take. They were in over their heads, that was for sure—but to go through this much and return home with barely a lead to show for it? That would be the most idiotic idea of all.

"We'd have to be _really_ careful," she said. "Chances are, even the cops in this craphole have got you on some kind of missing persons file."

"Right," James agreed. "Beyond careful. But do you really think we should do this?"

Lily didn't reply. Instead, she flicked on the headlights, stuck the key in the ignition, and brought the truck roaring to life.

* * *

**A/N: **Mimblewimble.

…

…

…

So, uh, hey guys. Nice to— Wait, where did those pitchforks come from? Why are you all advancing on us like a crazed army of Morfin Gaunts?

Before you tear us apart with your rusty farm equipment, please let us say a few things.

1) We have spent the past six months on opposite sides of the planet. We know that's not an excuse (plenty of people successfully co-write without even meeting face to face) but for us it was a real departure from our usual collaboration style and we struggled quite a bit. It wasn't a total failure though—we did manage to write a decent chunk of the chapter while separated. (Eight pages in six months? Where is our trophy?)

2) Like the story? Sick of waiting your entire life for one lousy update? Feel like strangling those darn authors? Stay tuned at the sevenscribbles tumblr for more info, coming soon. (Seriously though, we have a legit announcement and everything.)

3) Yesterday, we saw two deer in our backyard; one male, one female. We could have taken a picture for you, but we were too lazy. Instead, we took it as a sign, because clearly these deer were actually Lily and James, urging us to finish this chapter. So here you go. Thank the spirit deer.

There was probably something else we were supposed to mention here but we can't English no more.

Sinseerlie,

Liz and Sam

(_Sven_)

We just typed that by mistake and it was too funny to delete.

Take two:

(_Seven Scribbles_)


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